Married In The Quarter Quell
by riverknowshisname
Summary: What would it be like if Katniss and Peeta were really married in the Quarter Quell, and what if Katniss was actually pregnant, how much different would the Games have been? And what would the rebellion be like? Is Peeta still hijacked? And how about after the war? What does the future hold for Peeta and Katniss?
1. Chapter 1

**_This is my first attempt at a Hunger Games fic, so if you like it reviews are greatly appreciated! The more reviews the faster the story goes up. Nothing like encouragement to get the juices flowing. Hope you like the story! Enjoy!_**

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As I stare at the girl in the mirror, I look at her unblinking. White dress. Wedding dress. Done by none other than Cinna's hands. I don't think he could make anything ugly, even if he was trying. There was just something about his talent that I'll never quite understand. But I admire it more than words can say. This dress is gorgeous and I can't imagine wanting to wear anything else. Sure it's got the Capital written all over it, but Cinna has also made it simple. Elegant? Yeah, elegant. I can't even think of another dress that would be more perfect. The veil in itself is something wonderful. Though, thankfully, is simple as well. The Capital may not like the veil as much, and nor would President Snow, but Cinna insisted.

I can't believe that I'm here, though. I'm getting married. Married to Peeta. While that sounded like a horrible disease – no, not a horrible disease, just I hadn't really thought about it when I suggested it. And looking back on it, I can see why Peeta would be upset. _"He wanted it to be real."_ Haymitch had told me that much, but the more I've thought about it…well it's not entirely unreal…I'd just never really thought about it. Snow wants a show, and so we're giving him one, but part of me wonders why I'm so calm. What am I so calm?

"You look beautiful."

I don't even have to turn, I'd know that voice anywhere. Peeta. I don't know what it is about his voice but that is always something soothing about it. A sense of security I don't know how to explain. But I do turn to face him, and with as stern a voice as I can muster, "you're not supposed to be in here."

He smiles at me. "Madge made you something and she _insisted_ that you must have it with you…I'd forgotten about it till right now." He holds out his hand and inside it lies a handkerchief. Mine and Peeta's initials on it. All capitalized letters but there's a smaller K on the left and a smaller P on the right. In the middle is an M. K for Katniss. P for Peeta. And M for Mellark. Mellark. The thought stops me. M-e-l-l-a-r-k. Peeta Mellark. Katniss Mellark. Katniss Everdeen Mellark. Mrs. Peeta Mellark. I'm going to be Katniss Mellark. The thought makes me tilt a little bit. "Are you okay?" Peeta is frantically grabbing my arm.

"Uh, yeah," I look up at him, "just need to sit down a minute."

"Can you even sit in that thing?" Peeta questions staring at the dress.

I hadn't really thought about the sitting down part. Something I'm definitely going to need to ask Cinna about. "I guess not." I'm more than a little frustrated. "Wait," I'm recalled back to the fact that _Peeta_ is in my room. "Shouldn't you be somewhere else?"

"I'll go anywhere you want me to, Katniss," he beams at me. His smile is infectious and I don't know why, but I'm smiling too…I'm blushing. Oh why does he have to say things like this in such an offhand way? It's like he says them without even thinking about them. God, his honesty kills.

"Well," I say, "you should probably go get ready."

"Katniss," his head drops, "I'm wearing a suit. What more do I need to do?"

I have to laugh. He makes a good point. "What, Portia didn't give you a gorgeous gown that you can't sit down in too?" He smiles and I'm smiling. "Well, that's not fair. Now we won't match." I give a pouty lip, which sends Peeta into some frantic hysterical laugh. I try to calm him down but his laugher is infectious and I'm laughing too.

"Oh," Peeta says snapping out of his laughing. "I meant to give you this…" he watches my face as he pulls a box from his pocket, "this one is from me." I tentatively reach forward and grab the little box from his hand, as I open the box up I'm surprised – but then not surprised, because it's Peeta – to see a simple but elegant engagement ring. I look up to meet his eyes. "I figured, well, I thought…" he stammers. "Will you wear it?" I barely know what's happening, but I'm nodding. He takes the ring from the box, discarding the box onto the bed and gently slips the ring on my finger. Then when he looks up to meet my eyes this time, there's pain…some sort of agony in his face…

"Peeta?" I don't even know what to say. "What's wrong?" He shakes his head. "No, come on, tell me."

He inhales sharply and exhales loudly. "I didn't think you'd wear it."

"Why not?" I'm genuinely puzzled by this. Of course I would wear it…wouldn't I?

"I don't know," he shrugs, "because you haven't been to gung-ho on this whole, getting married to me thing." Before he can continue I place two fingers over his mouth silencing him. There is real pain here, pain I hadn't noticed before. _"He wanted it to be real."_ Haymitch's words stick to my consciousness like a vice.

"Peeta—" I suddenly want to tell him that this was a choice and I've made it. I've chosen. I've chosen a life with him. This whole conversation takes another toll when I step forward and kiss him on the cheek. This feels so natural, so right. But it's also scary me. Is it possible that I love Peeta? He's always been there for me, and I don't question his love at all, it's all out in the open. Not just for the camera's. Peeta loves me unconditionally, and I merely chose to marry him because I'm afraid of Snow…but now I'm wondering if there were underlying feelings there this whole time. There was that one kiss in the cave…it made me want more…anytime I think about that kiss I want more. Is it possible that I've loved – cared – about Peeta all this time? Have I been to blind to notice? Too stubborn to listen to my heart? I'm about to say something else to Peeta when Effie bursts in the door and my hands drop to my sides and Peeta turns to face Effie.

"It's another big big big _BIG_ day you two!" She's entering the room now, but then stops at the word two. "Peeta!" She gasps. "What are you doing in here?"

"He was—" my voice cracks. "Just giving me this." I hold my left hand up so Effie can see the engagement ring that Peeta gave me. She sighs before shaking her head and ushering Peeta out of the room, saying there will be plenty of time later for us to give each other things. We both know she's right, so Peeta leaves without argument, but not before placing a light kiss on my cheek and giving my right hand a squeeze and then he's gone from the room. Effie prattles on for an undiscernable amount of time before Haymitch enters the room.

"Shouldn't you ladies be heading out now, sweetheart?" He's a little wobbly, but at least he's present. Effie suddenly realizes we're behind schedule – two minutes, which for Effie is more like an hour – and she is rushing us out the door so fast I nearly fall face down on the floor. Thankfully Haymitch was able to catch me before I fell. "Effie driving you crazy?" he whispers. I barely get out an answer before Effie is pulling me into an elevator. "You ready for this, Katniss?" I nod but there are tears running down my face and then my nod turns into me shaking my head. Effie starts to complain about the makeup but Haymitch just wraps his arms around me. "It's gonna be okay sweetheart. You're gonna be okay."

After a few minutes I get ahold of myself and wipe my face off with Madge's handkerchief. Oh thank God for Madge. It's only then that Haymitch notices the ring on my finger. "Where'd this come from?" he asks picking up my hand and examining the ring.

"Peeta."

"Yes," Effie continues, "he was in her room when I got there." She continues to go on and on about how the grooms not supposed to see the bride before the wedding, and is nothing sacred, and endless, endless banter about wedding etiquette and how Peeta and I are not following it very well thus far. Not that we care. Effie ushers us out of the elevator, to a chariot. Yes, a chariot. Apparently no other mode of transportation is acceptable for the girl – and boy, I'm always having to add that part, no one seems to remember that Peeta was too – on fire, despite the fact that this dress makes it nearly impossible for Haymitch, Effie and I to ride in the same one all the way there, but we make do.

Just before we get to the doors of the Justice Building of the Capital, much nicer than in any of the districts, Haymitch stops me and pulls me so that I'm facing him. He looks nervous but I wait for him to talk, "now, this might be asking a lot. But as your mentor I feel personally responsible for—" I cut him off.

"I'd be honored," I smile at him. We are so much alike that he really doesn't need to finish his question, or request, of course I'll let him walk me down the aisle. With my father not being here, Haymitch is probably the person in my life closely resembling a father – though mine never drank like Haymitch does – and he did keep me alive in the Hunger Games. I'm pretty sure I can trust him with walking me over some carpet…and I might need his support. I just might fall over.

Just before the doors open I clench onto Haymitch, "please don't let me fall." I beg him.

"If you make sure I don't fall, and I make sure you don't fall, nothing can go wrong right?" He smiles and we both laugh. We are still laughing as the doors open, but we stop almost instantly. As we start up the rows of Capital people, I see many faces of people I don't know. I can already picture the faces of my prep team, because they'll notice whatever my crying did to my makeup. My mother, Prim, Gale, Hazelle and the rest of her kids will be somewhere near the front. Gale! I haven't talked to Gale. Not that I should. I'm marrying Peeta and all. No, anything that I may have felt for Gale needs to be pushed as far away as possible. Nowhere near me if I can help it. I want to just throw them out the window and never look back. I can't be married to Peeta and have feelings for Gale, that is wrong on _so many_ levels. Just then I look down the long aisle and see Peeta. He's smiling. No one in their right mind would doubt that he loves me. Everything he's ever done is for me. He protected me in the Games, and he's never ratted me out, or called me out on anything…she's just been, unfailingly good. The boy with the bread is mine. He's mine. For some reason this causes my heart to flutter a little. And I realize I won't ever have to face my nightmares alone again. If anything good is coming out of this marriage, that would definitely be one of them.

We're nearing the front now and I unintentionally lock eyes with Gale. There is nothing but anger and hatred in his gaze. Nothing. He is not happy at all, and I doubt there's anything that I can do about that. I look away quickly and lock eyes with Peeta. Those wonderful blue eyes. He doesn't even need to say anything, his face says it all. And for once, I'm not worried about what this day might bring, because I've got Peeta. And just like we weathered the Victory Tour together, we'll weather life together too. As soon as I make this revelation I see Peeta's hand is outstretched to me, I take it and squeeze it, just to let him know that I'm here. Haymitch takes a seat and the wedding goes by so smoothly that I'm just waiting for something dramatic to happen, perhaps that's because of the Games. I see so many things differently now since then.

Before I know it the officiate has signaled for Peeta and I to kiss. I'd forgotten this part of the wedding, but as Peeta reaches for me, I reach for him. It's not a rough kiss, but it's not a peck either. It's just enough for the Capital people to "aww" and the districts to believe it was an actual kiss. What am I talking about? It was an actual kiss. Turning to the crowd we're introduced as Mr. and Mrs. Peeta Mellark. Mrs. Peeta Mellark. It's final now. I am Katniss Mellark. And my life will never be the same again.


	2. Chapter 2

As Peeta and I make our way out of the Justice Building and onto our chariot we and our guests make our way to the President's mansion. For some insane reason, that was deemed the best location for our reception. Peeta, Haymitch, and I are all convinced it's because Snow wants to keep his eyes on us and the festivities. Can't say that I really blame him.

The reception is pretty easy going for everyone…everyone but Peeta and me. We are clutching onto each other so tightly we've both lost the feeling in our hands. But we are going to conquer this as a team, just like we did the Games, just like we did the Victory Tour. I hang onto him for dear life and he hangs onto me. Some people try to split us up, but we refuse. Eventually I can see Gale making his way towards us, and Peeta sees him coming too and tries to let go of my hand. I glare at him and say through clenched teeth, "don't you dare." He's surprised by my brief moment of hostility, but doesn't move. Gale continues to advance toward us and all I can think, is this is not going to end well. We are screwed. We'll all be dead by morning.

"Katniss!" Peeta shakes my arm. "Calm down." I only realize now that – even though I didn't think it was possible – I have tightened my grasp on his hand so much that our fingers are turning blue. I stare pleadingly into his blue eyes but he pries my fingers from his own. "I'll stay right over here," he says hoping to reassure me, but all it does is cause me further stress. Peeta was the one good thing that was helping me keep my sanity in this whole thing – which is ironic since we're married now – and here comes Gale. I don't know what to say, I don't know what to do, so I start to massage my hand. Only realizing now how much it hurts. I guess I don't blame Peeta for pulling our hands apart. He's over talking to Haymitch about something, which I suddenly find more interesting than my best friend charging through the crowd over to me. This is it. This is how I die.

"Katniss," Gale says.

"Gale," I answer. I don't know what to say. And if he can say my name, then I sure as hell can say his.

"Katniss," he begins again. "I can't believe you went through with this. Married _Peeta._" Here is comes. "I thought you said it was all just an act, but here to are, basically clinging to him for dear life," I can't help by glancing over to Peeta, who's still talking to Haymitch which just ignites Gale's fury. "Even now you look over for him! Do you need to be rescued from me Katniss? Am I some big problem now, what only Peeta can deal with?" Gale starts to spew out some more awful things about me, and some very bitter and untrue things about Peeta.

"That's not true!" I quietly bark at him. "Peeta's only ever looked out for me. No one was forced into this! I'm the one that suggested it!" Before I realize what this would do to him it's out my mouth. My hands fly up to cover my mouth. I'd neglected telling him that it was me that suggested that Peeta and I get married, for this very reason. His face goes through so many different emotions that I'm at a total loss as far as what to say. I've really dug a hole this time. Peeta seemed to have noted my distress though because he is at my side in a moment. I'm not sure what's going to happen now, but I'm horribly worried that Gale is going to hit Peeta. And just when I think he's going to someone calls the room to attention, and Peeta grabs my hand pulling us to the front of the crowd leaving Gale behind.

"Good evening," it's President Snow. "I'd like to say on behalf of the happy couple, thank you for coming. It has surely been a whirlwind for us to see these two come together. But here they are. I could give a really long presentation, but no one wants to hear that. We'd like to see them dance." The crowd agrees, and I am just thankful beyond words that he didn't try to say anything else. The crowd dissipates and Peeta pulls me over to the dance floor. His arms encircle my waist, pulling me in closely and my arms are around his neck. Without even planning it we touch foreheads. Mine, looking up at him and his looking down at mine. We dance like this for a while before my neck starts to hurt, and I'm forced to accept just placing my ear to his chest. I can hear the steady heartbeat that keeps the nightmares away or eases me back to sleep and I'm back on a train, in the middle of the night, and knowing that no one's arms can comfort me the way Peeta's do. Suddenly the song is done and he's pulling away from me, but before he does we both – not knowing that the other is – go to kiss one another on the cheek and instead our lips meet. It's only now that I realize how wonderful he smells.

More music begins to play, this is typically the dance when the bride and groom dance with their parents. Groom with his mother. Bride with her father. But my father is dead. And just when I think that I'll be sitting this one out, Peeta's dad walks up to me. The baker. His wife has already caught up to Peeta, though I can't help the terror I feel at her proximity to him. "Katniss," he says to me. I meet his gaze. I never noticed till this moment, but Peeta must have gotten the blueness of his eyes from his father. "Peeta thought you should have someone to dance to, and since I only have boys, I thought…" he pauses. "Would you allow me the pleasure of this dance?" I nod brief tears streaming down my face, he gently pushes them away and starts to twirl me around on the dance floor. Peeta's father must have taught him how to dance, because for someone in District 12, hi father is a wonderful dance partner.

The dance ends and I go around and dance with many other Capital officials, but I always end up back with Peeta for the in between dances. It becomes such a habit that people have to ask Peeta to cut in. Effie comes hurried towards us with someone in tow. "Katniss, Peeta," she cuts in, "this is Plutarch Heavensbee. He's going to be the Head Gamemaker for the Quarter Quell, and he'd like a dance with Katniss."

"May I?" he looks at Peeta.

"Of course," Peeta says stepping back. I can't help but glare at him for leaving me with a Gamemaker, but I decide to forgive him, as I've already alienated one of my best friends tonight.

"How are you liking the party?" he asks me.

"I'd have preferred something smaller," I tell him. Truly I would. Anything smaller than this would be great.

"I can see what you mean," he nods.

We talk about the berries and Peeta and I for a little bit before he decides to check his clock. There's a Mockingjay on it. Not so strange for the Capital, but for a Gamemaker, who probably knows what Snow thinks it symbolizes, is a bad thing indeed. But he doesn't seem to mind. Makes something up about a meeting he has to go to and he's gone. Peeta's back though and I'm once again in his arms twirling around the floor.

As the night winds down, Peeta and I are ushered to a hovercraft that will take us to our honeymoon. After saying our goodbye's to everyone – but Gale, I'm not talking to him right now – we board and leave. We're flying for so long that I cozy up against Peeta and fall asleep. The next thing I know is Peeta is waking me up because we've made it, it's not until we get out of the craft that we realize where our honeymoon is. District 12. Victor's Village. Peeta's home…our home.

This should be cozy, all in our own neighborhood. Near my mother, near Prim, near Haymitch…near Gale. Oh this has trouble written all over it, and I am not ready for it. I'm not ready for any of this, and Peeta understands that. We both get ready for bed as we've designated bathrooms and finally crawling into bed I cuddle up next to him. It's amazing how at home I feel in his arms. But tonight is easy, we're both asleep before we can say much of anything, but I think I catch just barely something that Peeta says, "I love you, Katniss." For some reason I'm nodding. Do I love him too? Maybe this whole being married thing won't be as bad as I had originally thought.

In the morning I know I've woken before Peeta, he's got this way of breathing when he's asleep that's different than when he's awake, I know them well; so I have no reservations about pulling my left hand up to my face I stare at the rings rolling them around and around and around my fingers. They're not quite so bad either. I quite like them actually. They're a gift from Peeta. Not the Capital. He knows what I like, and I know for a fact that he would not have let anyone else in the Capital pick for him. We got our rings engraved, his reads, _"the girl on fire"_ and mine _"the boy with the bread"_. We both found the other's choices a little silly, but that didn't change our minds. We still got the inscriptions that we wanted. Even now, as I pull off the my wedding band to read the inside, _the boy with the bread._ The boy with the bread. Peeta Mellark. My husband.

_Husband._ Well that's certainly going to take awhile to get used to…

"Katniss?" Peeta says groggily, but he startles me and the ring flies up into the air landing on his face. I gasp and twist over to pick it back up.

"Sorry…" I place my wedding ring back on my finger. "I was just reading the inscription."

"'The boy with the bread,'" he says rubbing his face where the ring landed. "You picked it. Why did you pick that?"

"Why did you pick 'the girl on fire'?" I counter.

"I don't know," he shrugs. Maybe it was just the first thing that came to his mind. "Just seemed to fit."

"I see," I nod. For it being Peeta, I would have assumed there would be some endearingly sentimental reason for picking _the girl on fire_, but maybe there wasn't. Maybe he did just think it would fit best and left it at that. I guess even Peeta can't have the know-how all the time…that would just make him perfect…perfectly irritating.

"You hungry?" he asks sitting up. "I can whip us up some quiche or something."

"Quiche sounds lovely," I say smiling. "And some cheese buns would be great too."

He laughs briefly, kisses my forehead and gets up from the bed and goes to the bathroom before heading downstairs. "No need to change out of your pajamas," he calls over his shoulder, "you're prep team won't know anything about you wearing your pajamas all day, I promise!"

I laugh, because it's true. There is no reason for me to change into anything but my pajamas, and if Peeta doesn't care if I look like a disheveled version of myself then that's fine by me. There's something incredibly freeing about my relationship with Peeta. It's so good. So sweet. I shake my head. Whoo, what are you doing, Katniss? I jump out of bed putting both of my rings back on, I hadn't even noticed I was playing with them. Funny how you sometimes miss the small things. Like those nights on the train…_Katniss!_ I myself make a trip to the bathroom before heading downstairs.

The first thing I do when I get to the kitchen is to hug Peeta. I'm glad that it was Peeta the Capital made me marry…made me? It really was my – our – choice. Snow didn't say I had to marry Peeta, he just said I had to convince him of my love _for_ Peeta. Is there some part of me that loves Peeta? I suppose, if I look at my feeling…is there a part of me that _doesn't_ love Peeta?

I can't think of a single one…


	3. Chapter 3

As the rest of the day progresses Peeta and I eat breakfast – well it's more like lunch by the time we get around to eating – then we decided to sit down and watch the recap of our wedding and reception. It was quite interesting especially with Caesar Flickerman narrating the whole event. He keeps saying what we must be thinking, and it turns into quite the game. If he guesses any of Peeta's right, he gets to kiss me wherever he wants, but it's Peeta, so it's the same as always. My cheek. My lips. My neck occasionally. Peeta would never take advantage of my like that, even if we are married. If he guesses any of mine right then an arrow is added to how many he's going to try to shoot. Surprisingly, Caesar gets all but a handful correct.

"So I think it's safe to say," Caesar says as he's wrapping it up, "that the star crossed lovers from District 12 are the happiest victors we've even seen since the Dark Days. So glad we were able to celebrate with them. Perhaps they'll come in for an interview sometime!" To this the crowd screams, and I realize that it shouldn't be a surprise at all.

Not much later, we both fall asleep on the couch. It's always so comforting and relaxing in Peeta's arms, and I'm thankful for that. Thankful that these are the arms that will embrace me for the rest of my life. But then it hits me, I still don't want children. I don't want to bring any child into a world where they might have even the slightest chance of participating in the Hunger Games. Victors' children are not exempt from the reaping, perhaps that's what scares me the most about being married to Peeta. To think of the reaction that would happen in the Capital if the child of not one, but two victors' name is drawn. The thought sends a shiver down my spine.

I must have tensed up at the thought because Peeta is awake and rubbing my shoulders, "something wrong, Katniss?"

I shake my head, but he knows me better than that. "It's just…" I'm not sure how to say it, or exactly what to say…the whole idea scares me. I know Peeta would make a great father, he's so caring and wonderful…Katniss! You're not supposed to be enjoying this! But it's so true. Peeta is wonderful…

"Katniss?" he says turning me so we're looking right at each other, his hands on my shoulders. He's studying my face, searching the abyss of my eyes trying to find something. What is he trying to find? "Are you thinking about reapings?" It's kind of scary how well he knows me, how assuredly he can guess my thoughts. I just nod. He pulls me back into his arms, "I would never let that happen." The inflection in his voice is sincere but it cracks a little and I can tell that he's thought about this before too. It is oddly comforting though that he was thinking the same thing.

Just then, as I'm leaning over to give him a kiss there's a knock on the door. We both look at each other tentatively. "Who could be here now?" We just stare at each other for two more knocks on the door. The knock gets slightly more frantic and we almost trip over each other going over to the door. What is going on? We don't know but we both seem to have the same thought process. I go to wretch the door open but Peeta stops me. "We have no idea who this could be Katniss, I think we should wait and see who it is first. I nod and we peer out the side window. We both sigh in relief, it's only Prim. Peeta pulls the door open and Prim surveys our expressions and clothing.

"Did you two just get out of bed?" We shake our heads and start to offer explanations but she just laughs. "Chill out, you guys can do whatever you want. I'm only here because mom wanted to know if you guys wanted to come over for dinner? You can bring Haymitch." We look at each other trying to determine the others feelings about it before I turn back to face Prim and explain that we're far too cozy in our pajamas and already had no plans for going out, but that we'd love to be their tomorrow for dinner. Then Peeta walks away as I say goodbye to Prim.

"I still want to see you, as often as possible," I tell Prim. She needs to know that even though I'm married and living three doors away that she is still welcome here whenever she wants to come. Prim laughs and agrees to come over, but that she will call from now on before doing so to save any more panic on our sides. She's very perceptive and could tell almost instantly that Peeta and I had been a little more than worried by her knocking. "We just want to be lazy today. Yesterday was so busy that sitting around doing nothing seems so much better—" Prim waves me off, she understands. Give me a quick hug and is headed back to my house.

I close the door and go look for Peeta when I hear the shower running. Thinking that's probably a good thing I shed my pajamas and robe and wrap a single towel around myself as I walk to my bathroom. Forgetting how close the two bathrooms really are, I run into Peeta in the hall. Buck naked. My jaw drops as I attempt to look anywhere else. Peeta is as stunned as I am as my hands fly up to cover my face and the towel falls to the floor. Our eyes meet briefly and he ducks into his bathroom, I hoist the towel off the floor and dart into my own bathroom. I guess I'd never really noticed or appreciated Peeta's physicality before. His muscles are well formed and, well, he looks pretty good. Handsome. I shake my head, and jump in the shower, willing the image and thoughts from my head. Unsuccessfully.

After my shower I dress in another set of lounge clothes and head downstairs. Peeta is in the kitchen already, cooking up a storm. Cheesecakes, regular cakes…you name it and he's cooking it. I'm actually surprised. I didn't think he'd be as embarrassed about earlier as I was, but apparently he is, because he takes a long time before meeting my gaze. "Peeta…" I begin. "Um…" I really don't know what to say either.

"Sorry, Katniss," he just says as he begins to beat some eggs. "I didn't mean for that to happen." We very awkwardly talk about it as Peeta bakes and I pace around the room. When I finally realize that I don't want things to get awkward I walk over to him and grab his face between my hands and kiss him full on the mouth. He's startled by the kiss, but returns it anyways. Unlike the kisses at the wedding and reception last night, this takes on the feelings of warmth and causes something to stir inside me like it did in the cave during the Games. I place my hand on the back of his head so that he can't pull away. I throw caution to the wind and within hours our relationship reaches a point it never had before. I've never felt closer to Peeta in my life. As we lay in our bed, me in his arms, I don't know why I'd ever been worried about this before. It would have happened eventually, and I'm just glad it was Peeta. Just before we start to fall asleep an alarm downstairs starts going off. "The food!" Peeta yells jumping from the bed and yanking on some undershorts as he hobbles down the stairs as fast as his leg can carry him. "Katniss!" his frantic beckoning hurtles me out of the bed too, I pull my robe on and run down the stairs to the kitchen. What I see is now what I expected. Peeta is covered in flour and laughing.

"What happened? Why did you yell?" I'm surprisingly out of breath from the very short distance between our bedroom and the kitchen. He just continues laughing as I stand there fists on my hips trying to be more menacing that I really am and that causes a whole new set of laughter. I smile at him. "Peeta, what's so funny?" I can't help but smiling at him.

"Look at the cheese cake!" his exclamation brings on a whole nother round of body shaking laughter. I walk over to look at the cheese cake only to find that it's burnt to a crisp. Not just burnt to a crisp, but has completely collapsed in on itself. There is no more cheese cake.

"Aww, I really wanted that one," I say as upset sounding as possible. But we just break into a new set of giggles. You'd think that we were a pair of children with the way we're laughing but Peeta dumps it in the trash. "Just be glad I didn't throw it at you," he says mockingly. "That would probably hurt." I try to playfully hit him but he just grabs my hand and pulls me in for a kiss. Maybe this whole married thing won't be as bad as it sounded at first. Suddenly there's more pounding on the door. Peeta's face drains of the playfulness of a moment ago, "now who is that?" he said agitation is evident.

"Katniss! Peeta!" we exchange an irritated look. Haymitch. We cross through the living room and open the door. Not only is Haymitch standing outside our front door, but a camera crew as well, already recording. "They wanted to get some interviews." He's drunk. If he weren't so inebriated then he never would have brought them over here.

"Haymitch!" both Peeta and I scream at him. Peeta in his undershorts and me in my robe. I pull the robe tighter around myself. This is not what we had planned for today. "We need to go get dressed," says Peeta shutting the door in their faces. "So much for an easy going day." He shakes his head grabs my hand and we run upstairs to get dressed. In five minutes we're back downstairs and opening the door for the camera crew and Haymitch.

"We just need to ask a few questions," says a woman with fluorescent blue hair. A deep blue outfit and a repulsive style. This is not how either of us wanted to spend our day. As the interview starts Peeta and I take a seat on the couch and answer the questions, rather robotically. As the interview is finally reaching the ending point, we are asked one final question, "what is that horrendous smell?" This causes the both of us to erupt into laughter. We'd forgotten to throw out the cheese cake. We explain burning the cheese cake, which seems to shock everyone in the room. Peeta is known for his baking, so the interviewer looks at us, and asks what we were doing that there was even an opportunity for it to burn. Instantly our laughing turns into a choking. That's the last thing we want to talk about to a camera crew. Peeta explains that we fell asleep on the couch, she asks how we didn't smell the burning. Peeta and I are both starting to lose patience with this woman and Peeta finally says something about them ruining our honeymoon and that they should leave so we can make another cheesecake. The woman sighs exasperated, she's not getting the answer she wants, but agrees to leave. After they've left we both turn to Haymitch and lay it on thick.

"Well, geez!" he finally says. "You'd think you did more than cuddling!" Peeta and I both blush profusely. Of course Haymitch would get right to the point and unknowingly be right. "Oh," he says taking in our expressions. He shakes his head and excuses himself, then we're left to ourselves. Both too exhausted for anything Peeta gets the rest of the food out of the over and offers to take some of it over to my mother and Prim, I agree that it would be a nice gesture since we didn't come over for dinner. While he's gone I realize how tired I am and make my way upstairs and collapse into bed. The only time I'm coherent of anything is when Peeta comes and crawls into bed. We both sleep half the day away, before waking up.

"We're going hunting today," I tell him. He agrees and we get ready to leave, bringing enough food to have a smallish picnic in the forest and I hope desperately that Gale is not in the woods, because that would be all kinds of bad. As we start to make our way to where I keep my bows and arrows and stop up short with a gasp. Gale. Peeta and I exchange a worried glance and turn to get back to the house as soon as possible so that Gale doesn't notice us. However, with how loud Peeta is going through the forest as soon as we turn around we hear Gale do the same. We've just barely made it in the door when there's a pounding on the other side. Gale saw us, and neither of us knows what to say or do. We're screwed.

"Katniss!" Gale yells from outside the door.

I look at Peeta and see my worry reflected back at me, "what do we do?"

He shrugs, "open the door and hope he doesn't hit me." I don't know why but I find this humorous. Gale pounds on the door again. "I think I'll go in the other room." I stop him by grabbing his wrist, "no. You're not leaving me alone with his anger." Peeta agrees to stay and after a kiss I tentatively open the door, just in time to see Gale's fist flying at…the doorway? Okay, well that's better than at Peeta's face, but there's no escaping the look on his face. And I'm speechless, and so is Peeta, we're frozen stiff.

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_**Thanks so much for all the reviews guys and the interest in my story, please keep them coming! :-) I'd write another chapter now, but Sherlock is calling me...so late today possibly. :-)**_


	4. Chapter 4

"Gale," I say, protectively stepping in front of Peeta. "Is something wrong?" I'm trying to avoid meeting his gaze as much as possible but it doesn't work when he grabs my face in his hands. I can feel Peeta step up behind me tensing, and I'm pretty sure that his hands have balled up into fists. This is great, they're going to kill each other and I'll be left all alone for the rest of my life… This thought angers me and I yank Gale's hands from my face and take a step back, only just not realizing how close Peeta was to me.

"What is going on with you?" he howls at me. "Since when did you actually care about Peeta?" I can feel Peeta's shoulders drop a little because his arms touch mine. "I thought you said it was all just an act, that it didn't mean anything!" He's shouting at me now, and Peeta's turned and stormed upstairs. I impulsively slap Gale in the face. I've never hit him before and my hands fly up to cover my mouth.

"It wasn't all for the Games," I choke out. Gale's face just hardens. I've never said this much before, but he always seemed to understand that I did care about Peeta too, and that never bothered him before…but then again Peeta and I weren't married before either…or genuinely happy together. I hear a door slam upstairs and I cringe. There's going to be a lot of talking done tonight…if Peeta will even talk to me. "Damn you, Gale!" I shout back at him. "Why did you have to do that? What was wrong with just coming here like a normal human being and asking to go on a walk and talk about it then? Why did you have to come into my house—"

"Your house?" he cuts me off. "I thought that," his hand jabs the air towards my – other – house. "Was your house! Since when did this become your house?"

"Since I married Peeta!" I only realize now that tears are streaming down my face. "Why couldn't you just let it go! I would have had to do it anyways!"

"Well, yeah, but you suggested it, Katniss!" he's fuming. "You could have just gone on with your life, not caring about anything, life just being normal. You didn't have to form a real attachment! Do you love him, Katniss?" he's still shouting and that's part of the reason I rock backwards, the other part because he asked me so straightforward.

"I don't know!" I shout at him, and I don't know, but I do know that if I did love Peeta than I'm pretty set in life. There can't be anything with Gale anymore, not since I'm married, it's just not done. And I could never do that to Peeta. "But that's not any of your business anyways!" I slam the door in his face, lock it and run up the stairs. Gale hits the door one last time before leaving. I can see that the guest bedroom door has been slammed shut. Telling me exactly where Peeta went, and what door he slammed. "Peeta?" I ask. He doesn't answer. "Peeta?" He still doesn't answer. I hit the door, "dammit Peeta! Talk to me!" I hit the door again and then lean my back against it and slide down to the floor and place my hands over my face, I only just realized I'm crying.

Why am I crying? What is going on with me? I just reamed Gale out, yelled at Peeta for locking me out, and am sobbing because he locked me out. This is not okay. I'm not okay with this. Why did he shut me out? He's never done that before…but then again Gale hasn't come over screaming that I don't love Peeta…why does my life have to be so complicated? Couldn't I have just won the Hunger Games, or died, died might be better, because then at least I wouldn't have to lie to them…one of them, or both of them. I don't know what to think my mind is so jumbled…there's such a sense of belonging and comfort that comes from Peeta. He's always been there. I don't deserve him. Haymitch said as much, "You could live a hundred lifetimes and never deserve that boy." He's right. Of course he's right.

I sit outside the door crying for what seems like forever, and Peeta still hasn't emerged. I walk back to our bedroom yank my pillow and a couple blankets and decide to make camp outside the door. At least he'll know I made a real effort…unless he doesn't consider this an effort. I've never done this before, but I did drug him and risk my life to get him medicine! I didn't have to do that – I'd never forgive myself though, if I hadn't at least tried – and I stayed out of trees to make sure he was safe. There was a comfort in that cave, one that I only felt for the first time since then, yesterday. A need for Peeta. A desire for Peeta. A want to be with Peeta. If I'm honest with myself that is what I want, I want to be with Peeta. But he's making it so difficult right now! Somewhere between falling asleep and waking up Peeta seems to have emerged from the room and put me back in my bed, but he's not here. I groggily stand up and walk in the hall to see the door is still shut. "PEETA!" I'm annoyed now. I walk over and kick the door. I'm sick of this. "PEETA OPEN THE DOOR!" I'm screaming, out loud, high pitched, screaming. "OPEN THE DOOR!" Now I'm fisting, kicking, kneeing…well I'm savagely attacking the door.

"Katniss?" Peeta's voice comes from the staircase. I charge over to him. He's at the bottom of the stairs so I march myself down till I'm standing right in front of him. "Are you okay?"

My face is flushed, my cheeks are burning, my body is tensed up and I'm fairly certain I broke something in my foot. "Why did you lock me out?" I'm screaming, though not at the same decibel as earlier.

"I needed to breathe, Katniss."

"You couldn't breathe out here with me?" I'm still really mad at him but my voice and breathing have started to calm down.

"Was what Gale said, true?" he asks looking down at the floor. Of course that's what he's worried about. Not Gale storming after us and yelling at me, but if what Gale said about Peeta was true. I don't even know what to say but I can't go another night without him beside me. Last night was excruciating. "Katniss?" I'm called back to reality by his voice. It only makes sense that he would want to know.

"No," I say before I've realized the word is out of my mouth. We're not in the arena, we're not in front of the cameras…no. What Gale said isn't true. So to back it up I close the distance between us and pull his face down to mine and I kiss him. Warmth rushes over me. Warmth I cannot explain. Is it love? Could it be? I think it could. I think maybe it is. Maybe it always has been…

The next three weeks go by quite wonderfully. We've eaten dinner with Haymitch – by that I mean, Peeta bakes, I make something with meat and we eat at Haymitch's – twice and my mother and Prim more than that. But we've spent most of our time together watching the tv. The Capital seems to have nothing else to talk about besides our wedding and the impeding Quarter Quell. It's dispicible how the two are intermixed. We've had so many interviews that we're running out of things to tell them. We really are quite a boring couple in the eyes of the Capital.

We've also gotten more comfortable being around each other. Being naked isn't so scary anymore, but I'd prefer to have something on, especially since Haymitch has gotten into the habit of walking himself in our front door and plopping himself on the bed. He does this one morning and my stomach lurches, it's been consistent for the last three days but I'll just brushed it off, this morning it's worse than usual though. I rush out of bed and make it to the bathroom just as what little remained from my dinner makes it's way back up. Did I get sick? I've only been around Peeta really. Gale eventually came and apologized to me – refused to even acknowledge Peeta – so we're not as…tense as before. But then it dawns on me. I'm sick. I didn't eat anything bad. Then dread sets in. It couldn't be…it's not possible…or is it? I frantically get myself back together and get up from the floor, despite my lightheadedness I holler to Peeta that I'm going to my mothers and I'll be back in about an hour. He doesn't question it as I've done this more often lately, taking what we have from dinner over to my mother and Prim. I don't even bother to put shoes on, and it's not like I have very far to walk either.

Reaching my house, I open the door and walk straight in, "Mother, I need to ask you something!" Prim and my mother both come into the living room where I have plopped myself down on the couch, laid down and drooped my right arm over my head. My mother and Prim both ask me question after question till they abruptly stop and my mother hesitates. "Katniss…" she waits till I make eye contact with her. "What's wrong?" She knows she just wants me to say it. I just start to cry. I don't even know what to think, or what to do…I definitely do not want to tell Peeta. I don't want to tell anyone, I don't even want to tell my mother. "Katniss?"

"Mom," I gasp. "I think – I might – be pregnant!" I get out between crying fits. My mother and Prim both rush to either side of me and I do nothing for the next hour besides cry. I can't think, I can't eat, I've gotten sick twice since I came over. I'm so nauseous I can barely move. My mother finally has me take this test, that will let me know whether I am or not…I'm scared to death. This is what I didn't want to happen. There's no way I can bring a child into a world where the Hunger Games are still taking place. They would never be safe, and I would be scared to death at every reaping. No. This cannot happen. This can't be happening. I refuse.

The test comes back.

Positive.

I'm pregnant.


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey, Prim," I can hear Gale's voice instantly and hope that I can sink into invisibility and he won't see me lying on the couch crying. The last thing he needs now is any reason to think he knows what's going on with Peeta or how I feel about him. I really don't want to deal with him right now, but seeing as he's walking around the corner I have no choice. "Katniss?" he notices my curled up into a ball on the couch. "What's going on? Are you okay?" I just shake my head. I'm not. I'm really, really not. I don't want to have a kid in this world, where we pick names from a bowl where children fight to the death. Victor's kids are not exempt from that. There's always a big deal made when a single Victor's' kid is chosen, but to have both parents as Victor's…oh the thought alone refreshes the tears in my eyes. "What did Peeta do?" There goes Gale, automatically assuming that Peeta did something.

"It's not Peeta," I mumble. Well, it is, but it isn't. He's as much responsible for it as I am. There's no denying that. He wasn't planning on this either. And what perfect timing since the announcement of the Quarter Quell "special" differences is next week. I suppose I should tell Peeta before then…at least so he knows what's going on, but just the idea of having to tell him, shatters my heart. I start to get up and wave both Prim and my mother off. Gale reaches for me, "No, Gale!" I shove his hands away from me. I don't want or need his sympathy. And the last person I'm going to say "hey I'm pregnant" to, is Gale. "Just…leave me alone." I walk to the door and there are protests from them all, but I don't care. I walk out the door, down the steps and back to mine and Peeta's house. I'm in such a haze and the last three hours have been such a rollercoaster of emotions that I almost walk right past the house. I thought I was emotionally unstable before this, but now it just brings everything to a whole new level. An unhealthy, unsafe level. An those are two things I definitely need to be. Healthy and safe.

"Katniss?" Peeta comes to the front door. Notices the state I'm in and immediately picks me up and takes me upstairs. He pulls back the covers and tucks me in. After he sits down beside me he starts to stroke my hair. "Katniss, what's wrong?" There is real concern in his voice – though because he's Peeta, it doesn't surprise me. And thankfully he has sense enough not to automatically think it's Gale's fault. When I don't answer he continues to stroke my hair in silence. But after a while I don't blame him for trying to get me talking again, "Katniss, if something's wrong you can always tell me. That's what I'm here for." He gives a faint smile but it doesn't hide his concern for me either. I turn into him and wrap my arms around him and begin to sob uncontrollably. "Katniss…" Peeta is at a loss or words and so am I so we just sit there holding onto each other. Eventually he climbs under the covers and we fall asleep.

My nightmares are swarming with reaping's and my unknown children being called and Peeta and I having to mentor them and then they unceremoniously die. Time and time again, I'm not even sure how many nightmares I've actually had by the time Peeta shakes me awake. "Peeta!" I scream and he pulls me closer to him. Stroking my hair and saying that everything is going to be alright, and before I can stop myself I just blurt the whole thing out, "I don't want our kids to have to go through what we did. I don't want their names drawn, I don't want to have to mentor them, and I don't want to see them die!" I've gotten to a hysterical cry, my breathing is difficult and I'm gasping so loudly that I can't make out anything that Peeta is saying. It's like all my worst fears are coming true and that's the only thing safe. Right here right now, in Peeta's arms.

"Katniss…what's wrong? Why are you talking about 'our kids'? We don't even have any kids."

"Not yet," I gasp so loudly that I don't need to say anything else for him to understand. Then he pulls me even closer and we lay there in silence…neither of us sleeping for fear of the nightmares that will surely come. These nightmares are ones that even the other cannot calm. Eventually though we do fall back asleep only to be awoken, by fear and dread of the unknown. Of a future where we cannot protect them. I don't notice I'm shaking until Peeta starts rubbing my arm, but I notice he's shaking too, neither of us is in very good shape right now. But I know Peeta, and I know that he'll be blaming himself solely for this happening and I refuse to let him take all the blame.

Forcing myself to sit up I turn to him, gently caress his cheek. He catches my hand and kisses my palm. We both start to say something and then stop. Neither of us knows what to do, and this is our life just going through the motions and that is all that our lives consist of right up until the announcements of the Quarter Quell. This should be easy enough, what's going to be hard is the idea of mentoring some girl from our district. Someone I may or may not know…someone who probably has no chance at survival.

Snow takes his place at the podium and I clutch onto Peeta. My mother and Prim are on the couch seated beside us, and Haymitch is – probably drunk – in front of his own screen. Snow talks of the Dark Times and the uprising, which I was prepared for we hear it every year, it's what he says next the chokes me. "_To serve as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capital, the male and female tributes will be reaped from the existing pools of Victors_." My heart sinks to the floor. That means me and Peeta, and while I'd love nothing better than to stay buried in his embrace I need to breathe before I have a panic attack and I run from the house. I don't even know where I'm going, but I have to go somewhere. Peeta follows me out the door, I wave him back and he stays. Part of me is thankful that he did, and part of me wants him to follow. But it's Peeta, and he always gives me what I want. One of his qualities that I both, love and loathe. There is nothing I can do now, one or both of us will be going back into the arena, and one or both of us might die.

After finally composing myself, I know I have to go talk to Haymitch. If anyone is going to survive these Games, it has to be Peeta. Because if I'm honest with myself, I don't think I could live without him…especially now.

"Well, hello there, sweetheart," say Haymitch as I come in. "Finally sorted things out?" There's harshness in his voice that I know that shouldn't surprise me, but it does. And I don't even know why, but something about his attitude is very off putting…then it occurs to me.

"Peeta's already been here hasn't he?" My heart sinks as I realize how selfish my running away from him was. How hurt he must be. I suppose he'll be sleeping in the guest room tonight…and frankly, I wouldn't blame him. I wouldn't blame him if he was there already. "Haymitch, we have to keep him alive. I don't even care about what happens to me. He needs to live."

"You know you could live a hundred lifetimes and never deserve that boy." He's right I don't deserve Peeta. Peeta is too good. Peeta is what I should strive to be, who I should want to be…but I just fall short in every conceivable way. "So what would you like me to do? Go with you and die?"  
"Haymitch, please," I plead. I'm pleading? I am, I'm pleading with Haymitch to save Peeta's life, to make sure that he lives on. I can't be without him, I won't be without him. "He needs to live. He has to live. I'm not important. As long as I know he's alive and safe, them I'm okay."

"Fine, if his name is drawn I'll volunteer to take his place," he says cautiously, "but if they call my name and Peeta volunteers, there's nothing I can do." There's a ring of truth to that. But wait…

"You'll help him in the arena just like you helped me, please Haymitch, we have to save Peeta. Peeta deserves to live, I don't." I end my resolve. Haymitch agrees and it is with a very heavy heart that I make my way back to our house.

Like I predicted, Peeta is asleep in the guest bedroom. Being pregnant and intensely emotional today has plain warn me out, and I barely toss my shirt and pants on the floor and crawl into bed before I am completely asleep. Miraculously, I don't have any nightmares, but the relief soon gives way to dread. Not only would Peeta and I be going into the arena…but so would someone else. I wouldn't just be ending my life in pursuit to keep Peeta alive, and for that, I hate myself. I'd be taking two people from Peeta and not just one. But I am resolved. I refuse to let Peeta die. I'd never be whole again if I had to lose him. The house is silent. I pull random clothes on and head towards the hallway. The guest bedroom door is open and so are the doors to both of the bathrooms. Peeta must already be up. But when I get downstairs I realize he's not even in our house. Sighing heavily I realize he must be at the bakery. He doesn't go there quite as often as he used to, but if he's stressed – when we've been acting or we've been married doesn't matter – he goes to the bakery to help his parents out. I don't blame him…I wouldn't want to be around me either.

I decide to go hunting. Peeta would be absolutely against it, especially since he's banned me from it since he found out about the baby. But since I'm going back into the arena, I need the practice. So I change quickly and grab my father's jacket, and once I've determined that Peeta isn't in the area at all, I head out to the woods. The idea of running into Gale is causing me to have a panic attack and it takes me a full ten minutes and three rabbits to calm myself down. Being pregnant is exhausting. Under different circumstances, I might say that it was worth it…but knowing that we'll – oh my god, we'll – be dying…I've lost it. I cannot control my emotions at all, I'm gasping for air and I'm shaking and sweating profusely. How can I even think about taking us both away from Peeta? At least if Peeta died, I'd still have a part of him with me for the rest of my life – no. I won't let Peeta die. I am determined to keep him alive. Whatever the cost, Peeta lives…even if it means that we – me and my baby – don't. It seems like the right kind of sacrifice. Oh, why had I told Peeta about the baby? There's no way he would let anything happen to me.

"Catnip?" Gale comes from around a tree. New tears form in my eyes and another round of sobbing wracks through my body. I'm lost, I'm downing, and there's no one here to save me. "Katniss," he walks right over to me and pulls me into his arms and I cry and cry and cry. Being in Gale's arms has always been different than being in Peeta's. Both comforting, and sheltering, and loving…but what Peeta and I experienced together cannot be duplicated with Gale, nor ignored. I'm married, come what may, to Peeta Mellark. The boy with the bread, and the idea of separating myself from him at all…I love Peeta. Oh dear God, I love Peeta.

Then suddenly Gale is pulling my face up to look at him – no – he's moving in toward my face. Is he going to do what I think he's going to do? I try to pull away but he just pulls my face closer to his and kisses me full on the mouth. I'm lost in my thoughts I don't know what to think or say, all I know is I need to get out of here. I pull away from Gale harshly, not even willing to exert the effort it would take to slap him. "Gale!" I inhale sharply, shake my head. Pointing to the rabbits I tell him he can have them, that I don't want them and I run. Run as fast as I can back home, he calls my name but I ignore him. I won't be talking to Gale again, at least not for now. And I am absolutely, definitively not going to tell Peeta about what just happened…well at least not until we're on a train heading for the Capital.

Peeta sleeps in the guest bedroom again. I've never been closer in proximity to him and felt so distant from him since the Games last year, and the feeling is not comforting. I sleep by myself until the day of the reaping. I wake up, get dressed and will myself out the door. We are led by Peacekeepers into the square, Effie is on stage already and we – Haymitch, Peeta, and I – all take our places.

"Well," Effie begins, but there is pain in her voice. She doesn't want this anymore than we do. She gives the traditional introductions and we watch the same video that we watch every year. At the end in her usual Hunger Game voice Effie calls out, "As always…ladies first." Ladies…lady. My name is the only one in the bowl and as she pulls it out her eyes lock on mine and a tear drops from my eye. I can barely breathe, the feeling in my chest is so tight I can hardly function. "Katniss Everdeen…" her voice cracks, "Mellark." My heart is pounding against my chest as I take my place by Effie. "Wonderful." She says with as little emotion as possible. I'd never realized until this moment just how precious Effie has become to me, to Peeta…to us. This is hurting her as much as it is us. "And now for the males," she struggles to keep her voice calm and steady, but I know Effie well…if she wasn't in front of people she would be crying. Drawing a single card from the bowl she walks back to the microphone and sighs, "Haymitch Abernathy." NO!

"I volunteer," Peeta starts to move towards Effie when Haymitch grabs his arm. "Let me go." Haymitch protests but Peeta pulls his arm free and stands on the other side of Effie. I don't even try to hold my tears in as they rain down my face.

"Very well then," Effie continues, "the tributes from District 12…Katniss Everdeen Mellark, and Peeta Mellark." She's on the verge of tears and I'm already crying. Peeta is stoic at her side. Then my mother and Prim, followed by Gale and everyone else in the District raise the three finger salute. Peeta and I return it and are hastily ushered from the Justice Building. I holler my goodbyes as the doors swing shut. I should have seen my mother and Prim this morning. Now I will never get to say goodbye to them. And I will never see them again.

Peeta doesn't say a word to me, and I don't even know where to start with him, so we sit silently at the table, barely eating anything, even Effie whose usually done with her food by now is moving it around on her plate with her fork. Haymitch is drinking as usual. No one says a word. As bedtime rolls around, Peeta goes to his usual bedroom and I go to mine. I cry myself to sleep. Have I already begun – again – to lost the boy with the bread?


	6. Chapter 6

_**This chapter is dedicated to Ashley (simplybookdrunk) because you're a wonderful friend and your comments both here and texting are what makes it so much fun to write this fic. Love you lots!**_** :-) ****_(Also for the color suggestion.)_**

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The first two days on the train are more of the same. Peeta gets up, gets Haymitch and me out of bed and…frankly, everything is blur he has us doing so much. My head can't focus, not to mention the headaches I've been getting. It's like the first Games, really. Peeta keeps to his quarters and I to mine. It's not my choice, but I don't know the first thing to say to him, or how to say it. He'll know what I'm thinking and I already know what he's thinking…perhaps he just wants to distance himself from me before the Games, so losing me doesn't hurt as much. No, that sounds more like me than it does like Peeta. Still. He hasn't done so much as hug me, well touch me except to hand me things or take them from me. I don't understand what's happened. Two weeks ago I'd have loved nothing better than to spend the rest of my life with Peeta, and now here we are going back to the arena. And this time they are not going to let two people win. They would never do that again, no matter what the Capital has to say. Oh no, one of us is certainly not making it out of the Games alive. This has been the cause of my nightmares the last two nights. Peeta hasn't come so I cry myself back to sleep. I can feel my sanity ebbing away from me.

Peeta and I still haven't slept in the same room, but tonight my dream was so terrifying that I not only sat bolt upright I nearly fell out of the bed. I've resolved that I don't care what's going on with Peeta, I'm not sleeping by myself anymore. As I check the hallway and see no one, I quietly walk to his room and open the door. Expecting to find him sound asleep so I can soundlessly crawl in bed with him, I notice, he's awake…wide-awake. He sees me come in and opens his arms to which I crawl into easily enough. Despite his level of awake-ness he looks as if he hasn't slept in a few nights, I don't know why I hadn't noticed that before. "Peeta," I start looking up at him, "have you slept at all?" He shakes his head and pulls me closer. Of course he wouldn't, what had he said in the train car during the Victory Tour, "My nightmares are usually about losing you. I'm okay once I realize you're here." Of course he can't sleep. That's exactly what's going to happen. "Well, you can sleep now." I tell him and we do sleep. It's not until we hear Haymitch and Effie outside the door arguing about who should wake us up when we both look towards the door.

"One forehead kiss if it's Haymitch," says Peeta. I tell him two if it's Effie. Sure enough Haymitch opens the door. "Come on you two time to get out of bed. I don't want you two staying in bed all day. I need to talk to you about your competitors." Haymitch leaves the room, Peeta kisses my forehead, we both dress and go out to breakfast. "Now first things first, you're going to need some allies."

"Okay," says Peeta. Of course he's okay with allies that's what he did in the last Games and that alliance nearly got him killed. "I think we should—"

"Whoa, I'm not worried about you." He points to me.

"No." I'm not going to flower my answer, I don't want to trust anyone to have to kill them later. I did that with Rue and I don't want to do that ever again. Especially since I'll have to watch Peeta more closely than ever. Haymitch explains that if we don't the first thing that the others will do is hunt us down. Both of us. He said that for my benefit I know that much. "How are we supposed to trust any of them?"

Haymitch sighs, "It's not about trust. It's about survival. And you go in there without any allies and you've become everyone's main target." He tries to convince us unceremoniously about the need for allies but I begin to tune him out, but as soon as he's caught on to that he ushers us to the couch and we watch hours of other Games and the replay of the reapings again as Haymitch explains who each person is, thought I recognize one. "Finnick Odair, right?" Peeta looks at me with some indiscernible expression.

"Yes," Haymitch nods, "he's deadly with a trident. But he is a Capitol favorite, they love him there. And he'll have lots of sponsors to be sure." Haymitch is right, so I pay a little more attention to what he's saying about the rest of the contestants. One older woman, Mags, volunteered for another younger girl from her District. District 4, came as Finnick. Haymitch has steadily been giving us weaknesses of our competitors, "he has one," Haymitch discussing Finnick, "weakness. Mags. If he does anything to protect her that makes him vulnerable." Haymitch eyes me, and I know what he's saying. Peeta. Peeta is my weakness. Then I notice he share the same look with Peeta. We're each other's strength and weakness. A double edged sword. The rest of the day goes by in a blur.

When we reach the Capitol we go to the same floor and rooms we had before. Peeta is sleeping with me again. But that's all we do. Sleep. Neither of us has much energy for anything else. Haymitch and Effie go through the motions, we have our evaluations and both pull 12's…great, that just put us higher on everyone's kill list. And then on the day before the interviews with Caesar we're supposed to have meetings with Haymitch and Effie about our interviews, instead the Avox girl brings in a note telling us that we're excused from today because they've determined due to our recent tour that we can perform "adequately" in person. That adequately is for me, of course Peeta is wonderful.

"So what should we do?" Asks Peeta. "We have the whole day to ourselves." He looks at me and we have the same thought, together we say, "the roof." We order as much food as we can carry, grab a few blankets and head up to the roof. We spend hours eating, making up a game with the force field, and then at some point we wind down and my head rests in his lap. My left hand subconsciously on my stomach.

"Do you want to do anything else?" I ask Peeta.

"I just want to freeze this moment, and live everyday of the rest of my life with you," Peeta answers. I don't hesitate I sit up and kiss Peeta. This is our second to last night together before the arena. Our second to last night to be a normal – albeit not – couple, and then we enter the arena and that life is over. After awhile we both realize how tired we are and go to bed, we don't even bother to take our clothes off, we just crawl in to the bed and cuddle. We fall asleep easily.

Next up is the chariots parade of sorts. Cinna gets me readying in a single black outfit. Apparently we'll be going with the coal miners look again, then he hands me a button. "Click this when you're ready. And I don't want you waving or smiling this time, I want you to look straight ahead as if this event and everyone else is below you." I nod in agreement, though Cinna doesn't follow me down this time, I just take it that means he'll meet me down there. As I exit the elevator I can see all of the contestants, all seem less than thrilled that I'm there. I roll my rings around my finger trying to ground myself somewhat as I walk over to the chariot and pet one of the horses. I just happen to glance to my right and see Finnick Odair walking in my direction. Great.

"Hello Katniss," he says, almost as if we've been friends for years. But we haven't.

"Hello Finnick," I say just as casually. Although I'm feeling more and more uncomfortable the closer he gets to me. Oh where is Peeta? Finnick stops just inches away from me. My stomach lurches at his closeness and I'm afraid I might throw up. He offers me a sugar cube, which I decline and goes on about how the horses have years to eat them whereas we should grab it while we can.

I guess I'm surprised at how attractive he actually is, which makes it more awkward how close he is to me. I can see why he is such a favorite among the Capital and can understand why he has such a string of lovers. Maybe that should surprise me, but it really, doesn't.

"What happened to all the little girl dresses?" he asks.

"I out grew them," I say.

"You certainly did," his comment makes me uncomfortable. Then Finnick takes the collar of my outfit and runs it between his fingers. "It's too bad this Quell thing. You could have made out like a bandit in the Capital. Jewels, money, anything you wanted."

"I don't like jewels, and I have more money than I need. What do you spend all yours on, anyway?" I ask.

"Oh I haven't dealt in anything as common as money in years," he says.

"Then how do people pay for the pleasure of your company?" I ask.

"With secrets," he says softly. He hips his head in so his lips are almost in contact with mine. Now I'm certain I will throw up. "What about you, girl on fire? Do you have any secrets worth my time?"

Oh, yes, I've got the mother load. Yeah, whoo, hey Finnick I'm pregnant. I suddenly realizing I'm blushing, "No, I'm an open book," I whisper back. "Everybody seems to know my secrets before I know them myself."

He smiles. "Unfortunately, I think that's true." His eyes flicker off to the side. "Peeta is coming. Sorry this Quell put a wrench in your married bliss. I know how devastating that must be for you." He tosses a sugar cube in his mouth and saunters off.

Peeta's at my side, dressed in an identical outfit to mine, not that this surprises me at all. "What did Finnick want?" he ass.

I turn and put my lips close to Peeta's and drop my eyelids in imitation of Finnick. "He offered me a sugar cube and wanted to know all my secrets," I say in my most seductive voice.

Peeta laughs, "Ugh. Not really."

"Really," I say. "I'll tell you more when I stop feeling like I'll throw up."

"Are you okay?" he asks, there's concern in his voice.

"I'm fine," I wave the air between us, "just morning sickness probably."

"Do you think we'd have ended up like this if only one of us had won?" he asks, glancing around at the other victors. "Just another part of the freak show?"

"Sure. Especially you," I say.

"Oh. And why especially me?" he says with a smile.

"Because you have a weakness for beautiful things and I don't," I say with an air of superiority. "They would lure you into their Capitol ways and you'd be lost entirely."

"Having an eye for beauty isn't the same thing as a weakness," Peeta points out. "Except possibly when it comes to you." The music is beginning and I see the wide doors opening for the first chariot and hear a round of applause. Peeta hops up on the chariot, "Shall we?" He extends his hand to me and pulls me up onto the chariot. Within a minute he and I have intertwined our fingers. We're going into this as one. "Portia says we're to be very above it all. No waving or anything," he says. "Where are they, anyway?"

"I don't know." I eye the procession of chariots. "Maybe we better turn ourselves on."

"Is that safe?" he asks looking at me.

"I'll be fine." I click the button as we start moving. The ride goes by very fast and it was wonderful to be myself as we rode. I didn't have to pretend anything, I didn't have to be someone else. I didn't have to be another piece in their Games, I was just Katniss. And not one can take that feeling away from me. I'm going into this as myself and I will come out of it or die as myself.

When we get back and off the chariot – Peeta insists on helping me down, and since I don't want to argue I let him – Haymitch is there and walks us over to the District 11 victors. Chaff walks right up to me and gives me a big kiss on the mouth. I jerk back and my hand tightens…or was it Peeta's? I'm not sure which.

As we get to the elevator someone else comes up beside us. Johanna Mason from District 7. "Isn't my costume awful? My stylists the biggest idiot in the Capitol. Our tributes have been trees for forty years under her. Wish I'd gotten Cinna. You look fantastic." Turn to Peeta, "unzip?" What? She's asking him to unzip her dress, but he wouldn't, right? I look over at him he says a very inaudible "sure" and unzips it for her. I just glare at him. Then she turns to face us and her dress drops to the floor. Apart what she's wearing on her feet she doesn't have anything on. Now I really have to fight the urge not to throw up, which seems to be getting harder and harder as the day goes on. When we get on the Elevator she follows us. Then she starts talking to Peeta who talks back to her. I cannot escape in my mind anywhere since she's not wearing anything. Peeta is looking at her…well not looking at her, but his eyes are in her direction and it's hard to avoid or ignore the fact that she's naked. Though I'm relieved when we reach her floor and she gets out. I'm irritated with Peeta though even when we get out of the elevator.

Haymitch and Effie join us, looking pleased about something. Then Haymitch's face grows hard.

What did I do now? I almost say, but I see he's staring behind me at the entrance to the dining room.

Effie blinks in the same direction, then says brightly, "Looks like we've got you a matched set this year."

I turn around and find the redheaded Avox girl who tended to me last year until the Games began. I think how nice it is to have a friend here. I notice that the young man beside her, another Avox, also has red hair. That must be what Effie meant by a matched set.

Then a chill runs through me. Because I know him, too. Not from the Capitol but from years of having easy conversations in the Hob, joing over Greasy Sae's soul, and that last day watching him lie unconscious in the square while the life bled out of Gale.

Our new Avox is Darius.

During dinner I intentionally dropped a bowl of peas on the floor and bent down to help Effie hollers that it's not my job, but I grab Darius' hand and he squeezes it. There's an hours worth of conversation in that squeeze. I don't even know what to say, so it's a good thing that he can't. I sit back at the table finish dinner and then go to bed.

The next morning, we're roused by my prep team. The sight of Peeta and me sleeping together is too much for Octavia, because she bursts into tears right away. "You remember what Cinna told us," Venia says fiercely. Octavia nods and goes out sobbing. For the next few hours Venia readies me, as Flavius incapacitates himself as well. Finally Cinna comes in and I'm relived beyond words. I explain to him between sobs what's happened and he gives me a reassuring hug and shows me my dress. Purple, and gorgeous I'd expect nothing less from Cinna. His dresses are always beautiful.

"Purple?" I ask.

The gown is beautiful, but why purple? He smiles and simply says, "Purple, is a color of power. Of significance and royalty. It sets you apart from the rest. And that's how I want you, girl on fire."

"Twirling again?" I figure this is a given, but I ask anyways.

"Save it for the end." Is all he says before we leave the room and meet Peeta and Portia in the hall. Peeta's jaw drops and I walk over to him and tap it back up. I kiss his cheek, he grabs my hand and we walk into the elevator followed by Cinna, Portia and Peeta.


	7. Chapter 7

After all the tributes before me have gone it is my turn and as Caesar calls my name, Katniss Everdeen Mellark, you can almost hear a crack in his voice. There's no denying that Peeta and I are his favorites. He's said as much. I hadn't even thought how this would have bothered him. No one likes it that they're favorites are going back in and Caesar has had such little time to actually appreciate us, I feel bad for him a little, though I feel significantly worse for us.

As Caesar grabs my hand he gets right down to it, "So, Katniss, obviously this is a very emotional night for everyone. Is there anything you'd like to say?"

"I'd just like to thank the Capitol for being such wonderful wedding guests, I'll never forget that day as long as I live." I gesture to the dress, "this dress is actually designed as an ode to that one. Isn't it beautiful?" The crowd cheers. I don't even think about it, I just start to twirl slowly raising the sleeves of my gown above my head.

When I hear the screams of the crowd, I think it's because I must look stunning. Then I notice something rising up around me. Smoke. From fire. Not the flicker stuff I wore last year in the chariot, but something much more real that devours my dress. I begin to panic as the smoke thickens. Charred bits of black silk swirl into the air, and pearls clatter to stage. Somehow I'm afraid to stop because my flesh doesn't seem to be burning and I know Cinna must be behind whatever is happening. So I keep spinning and spinning. For a split second I'm gasping, completely engulfed in flames. Then all at once, the fire is gone. I slowly come to a story, wondering if I'm naked and why Cinna arranged to burn away my gown. I can only imagine the Panic attack Peeta must be having backstage.

But I'm not naked. I'm in a dress of the exact design as my purple dress, only it's the color of coal and made of tiny feathers. Wonderingly, lift my long, flowing sleeves into the air, and that's when I see myself on the television screen. Clothed in black except for the white patches on my sleeves. Or should I say my wings.

Because Cinna has turned me into a mockingjay.

"Feathers," says Caesar. "You're like a bird."

"A mockingjay, I think," I say, giving my wings a small flap. "It's the bird on the pin I wear as a token."

But I can tell by the look on Caesar's face that he knows that it is more than just a token I wear. More than just a decorative pin. He knows that the reaction here in the Capitol will be the exact opposite of those in the districts. Caesar compliments Cinna, has him stand and bow and I'm instantly so afraid for Cinna. He knows what he's done. An act of rebellion in itself. After some applause I go to take my seat, but as I pass Peeta he doesn't meet my eyes. Which seems odd.

Caesar and Peeta strike up a conversation on the dot, their camaraderie is evidenced by all. Peeta has such a way with crowds. "So, Peeta, what was it like when, after all you've been through, you found out about the Quell?" asks Caesar. I hang my head low.

"I was in shock." Peeta says.

"But, Peeta, the marriage?" asks Caesar. "The future." His voice cracks.

"Yes," Peeta pauses for a long moment, as if deciding something. He looks out at the audience and then at Caesar. "I'm sure we'd never have done it after we knew," says Peeta. What is he doing? "But who could've seen it coming? No one." There's real tears in his eyes. "We went through the Games, we were victors, everyone seemed thrilled to see us together, and then out of nowhere—I mean, how could we anticitapte something like that?"

"You couldn't, Peeta." Caesar puts an arm around his shoulders. "As you say, no one could've. But I have to confess, I'm glad you two had at least a few months of happiness together."

Enormous applause. As if encouraged, I look up from my feathers and let the audience see my tragic, honest, smile of thanks. The idea of the days to come has brought tears to my eyes, but I still can't figure out why Peeta's crying. What is going on with him?

"I'm not glad," say Peeta. Okay, I wasn't expecting that. "I wish we had waited."

This takes Caesar aback. "Surely even a brief time together is better than no time?"

"Maybe I' think that, too, Caesar," says Peeta bitterly. He wouldn't dare! "If it weren't for the baby."

He did it. And in so doing dropped a bomb that wipes out all the efforts of the rest of us, but that's not even what's bothering me. The little secret…this secret…I didn't want anyone else to know. The camera's shoot to me and my already teary eyes seem to have disfigured my face as I cry more. The crowd goes into hysterics, begging for the Games to be called off, for someone else to take my place, and endless, endless screams. After meeting Caesar's concerned eyes, Peeta nods and comes over to where we are. I automatically rise and, as I do, I sense Peeta reaching out for me. Tears run down his face as I take his hand. I don't need to question whether those tears are real or not because he squeezes my hand before he stands beside me.

In the chaos I turn to Chaff and offer my hand and when my hand clasps around his stump on his arm and hold fast. Hands are joined all over the stage and as we hold them high, more shouts come from the crowd and the lights are cut and we're in complete darkness.

When Peeta and I get out of the elevator on our floor, he grabs my wrist and turns me to him. "Do I need to apologize for that? I had to try to do something. I don't want you in this Game if I can help it."

I brush the back of my right hand against his face, "I don't think anything will change, Peeta. But no, I'm not mad at you for trying. That more than I was doing." I have to force it out, "but thank you."

As night draws near, Effie and Haymitch greet us. Two boxes in her hand, she hands one to Peeta and one to Haymitch. Peeta has to let go of my hand to open it and so I cross my arms over my chest. Peeta opens it to find a medallion and Haymitch has a bangle. "It's to show we are a team." Effie says with tears in her eyes. I say a quick thank you and embrace her, and I'm not sure if it's because I'm actually more attacted to Effie than I thought or it's my crazy hormones. Probably both if I'm honest with myself. I will miss Effie Trinket. When I feel Peeta rub my back I let go of Effie and stand back beside him. Peeta gives Effie a hug, but as soon as he lets go, she hiccups, "you two, deserved, so much better." And is gone from the room. She's right. With everything we've gone through and overcome, we do deserve better…we'll just never get it.

"Baby bomb was a stroke of genius," says Haymitch. "But—" Peeta cuts him off.

"It's true though Haymitch," says Peeta. I'd completely forgotten to tell Haymitch. And the look that overcomes his face is indescribable. I don't know how to explain it, and I'd be willing to bet, Peeta wouldn't know how to explain it either.

Haymitch hugs Peeta and Peeta thanks him. I hug Haymitch and remind him of the promise we made, Peeta lives. He nods, and turns to go but he stops momentarily. "Katniss, when you're in the arena," he makes eye contact with me. "You just remember who the real enemy is." I nod and he leaves.

Peeta and I go soundlessly to our room and cuddle holding onto each other like a vice. I don't want to let him go. I don't want to be separated from him. Neither of us can sleep so we stay awake all night long doing nothing but holding each other and occasionally kissing hands or cheeks or foreheads, we're both terrified of the next days. Scared to lose the other, that's what love does to you. I've barely gotten a handle on that feeling to understand it, and realize that I do love Peeta, to have that savagely taken from me. I hate Snow for this. I hate everyone responsible for this. My life is being ripped unceremoniously and mercilessly taken from me and I can't do anything about that. What future I thought I had – however scary – I don't have anymore. None of this is how I want it, none of this is right.

First, I was forced to pretend I was in love with Peeta to survive the Games, but I think somewhere along those lines I actually fell for him, but it wasn't until…until we got married that I realized how frightened I'd been of those feelings just how far away I tried to push them. This isn't fair…but then again, nothing in Panem is fair. When children are sent to reapings, when parents have to sit by and watch them die, when there can only be one victor, while they terrible Game continue, nothing is fair. Nothing about this life is fair. I'm sick of being a piece in their Games, and quite literally now for the second time…and this time, I know I'm not going to live. This time I know that I must keep Peeta alive no matter the cost.

Somewhere between fear and hatred I fell asleep. Peeta is gently coaxing me awake. "I don't want anyone else in there," I tell him. "Just you."

"If that's what you want," he agrees and then there is a knock on the door and Cinna alone walks in. Peeta kisses me, says, "I'll see you later," and leave the room. I'm such a mess I don't know what to think. I force myself out of bed and into the most accessible clothing, Cinna doesn't judge me, it wouldn't matter because I won't be in them for much longer. He says encouraging things to me, but as we take our seats in the hovercraft I have to keep pinching myself to keep in mind that this is not a bad dream…that I am on my way to the arena. That I'm days away from my death. I'll never see these woods again. Everything in the passing windows is the last shot of the outside world I will see, and I cannot even will myself to look.

When we reach my tube there is a jumpsuit down, I put it on and Cinna braids my hair. Before he says anything he places the mockingjay pin on my outfit. "Remember, I'm still betting on you, girl on fire."

"Ten seconds to launch," comes a voice from overhead.

I hug Cinna and thank him for everything and slowly and reservedly make my way to the tube. I step inside and it seals, but doesn't move. Why isn't it moving? And then I see it, Peacekeepers have entered the little cubical that I had just been standing in with Cinna and they are beating him. I'm screaming and banging on the glass but it's no use. As the platform begins to rise the carry an unconscious Cinna from the room and I know exactly what Snow is doing to me, and I know why.

The tube opens at the top as the disk is pushed through, and I'm blinded by the sunlight. I'm still hyperventilating but I will myself to focus. Water, and jungle. The arena this year is a jungle…lovely. I can see the Cornucopia in the middle and there is a bow and quiver full of arrows, I know I shouldn't charge there but I don't want to give someone else the opportunity to take them so as to make me defenseless.

Suddenly, I'm reminded that I'm not alone in these Games, "Peeta?" I search everywhere but I cannot see him. "Peeta?" He must be on the other side where I can't see him. A lump rises in my throat. If someone kills him before I get to him there will be hell to pay.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-Fifth Hunger Games begin."

And the countdown starts. 60 seconds. I have 60 seconds to get ready.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Some of the parts in the arena may take on certain parts of the movie, as I think a couple of them were done better in the movie, just as a heads up. Also, thank you so much for the reviews! You guys have made writing 8 chapters in two days an absolute pleasure! Keep 'em coming. :-) Additionally some parts in this chapter are directly taken from the book and altered as needed or shortened. Hope you like this chapter!**_

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The 60 seconds are up and I dive in the water. My heart is pounding and I'm swimming so fast I'm inhaling more water than I should be. I make it to one of the strips that is connected to the beach to the Cornucopia and break out in a run. I push myself to get to the middle and I run as fast as I can. I can see Brutus and Gloss heading this way but I don't give up. As soon as I reach the middle I pull the two quivers of arrows on my back and hearing something to my left I pull and arrow and set it ready to fire as soon as I turn. It's Finnick and his arm is raised, "good thing we're allies, right?" Well apparently Haymitch made alliances without our approval. "Duck!" I don't know why I trust him, but I drop to the ground just as he hurls a spear to one of the male contestants behind me. Grabbing a trident he hollers, "Don't trust One and Two, hold them off. I'll go find Peeta." Then he disappears around to the other side and I am left with just my bow and arrows. I fire one at Gloss and it imbeds itself in his calf and he falls into the water. I shoot an arrow at Enobaria but I miss.

"Katniss!" Finnick yells. "Mags found Peeta, he's over here!" I run over to where Finnick is running. Peeta is fighting with someone in the water and I can't tell who it is, I can barely tell that its him with the fists flying and water going everywhere. Finnick jumps into the water after them, I guess it's good to have an ally from Four. Then they go under water and I think I'm going to have a heart attack when they resurface, only to go back down. This time they're down longer, and when I start to get panicky…like I am right now, only one body surfaces, but you can't be sure who it is. I start to hyperventilate when Peeta's head pops up out of the water, but he thrashes around thinking that someone is beside him. I can't even steady my breathing. Finnick and Peeta both swim over to us and I try to help him up but he just gives me this all-knowing, "don't you dare" kind of look. So I back away and let Finnick help him up. Immediately we take off running. We don't want to be anywhere near here when the Career pack takes off. Finnick pulls Mags on to his back and Peeta and I lead the charge into the jungle.

Finnick and I seem to have a silent, who should kill who first battle when Peeta knowing exactly what I'm thinking ushers us onward. Peeta takes up the front, Finnick and Mags in the middle, and I bring up the back. The odds of me killing a follower are much faster than Finnicks even if he can throw a mean trident. I'd have better luck hitting multiples since I have my arrows. I'd given a quiver to Peeta to carry though. He's armed with a sword, Finnick his trident, and I my bow and arrows. We should hold out all right. Up ahead Peeta is cutting away brush ahead when I get a glance at what's ahead and realize we've just about reached the force field and I can already tell that it will not be like the one at the Training Center. I barely get out a, "Peeta!" Before his blade makes contact with the force field and he is hurtled backwards knocking Finnick and Mags to the ground.

I rush over to where he lies, motionless in a web of vines. "Peeta?" There's a faint smell of singed hair. I call his name again, giving him a little shake, but he's unresponsive. My fingers fumble across his lips, where there's no warm breath although moments ago he was panting. I press my ear against his chest, to the spot where I always rest my head, where I know I will hear the strong and steady beat of his heart.

Instead, I find silence.

"Peeta!" I scream. I shake him harder, even resort to slapping his face, but it's no use. His heart has failed. I am slapping emptiness. "Peeta!"

Finnick props Mags against a tree and pushes me out of the way. "Let me." His fingers touch points at Peeta's neck, run over the bones in his ribs and spine. Then he pinches Peeta's nostrils shut.

"No!" I yell, hurling myself at Finnick, for surely he intends to make certain that Peeta's dead, to keep any hope of life from returning to him. Finnick's hand comes up and hits me so hard, so squarely in the chest that I go flying back into a nearby tree trunk. I'm stunned for a moment, by the pain, by trying to regain my wind, as I see Finnick close off Peeta's nose again. From where I sit, I pull an arrow, whip the notch into place, and am about to let it fly when I'm stopped by the sight of Finnick kissing Peeta. And it's so bizarre, even for Finnick, that I stay my hand. No, he's not kissing him. He's got Peeta's nose blocked off but his mouth tilted open, and he's blowing air into his lungs. I can see this, I can actually see Peeta's chest rising and falling. Then Finnick unzips the top of Peeta's jumpsuit and begins to pump the spot over his heart with the heels of his hands. Now that I've gotten through my shock, I understand what he's trying to do, but there is still a strong urge to puke that I can barely contain it.

Finnick's world is different. Whatever he's doing, he's done it before. There's a very set rhythm and method. And I find the arrow tip sinking to the ground as I lean in to watch, desperately, for some sign of success. Agonizing minutes drag past as my hopes diminish. Around the time that I'm deciding it's too late, that Peeta's dead, moved on, unreachable forever, he gives a small cough and Finnick sits back.

I leave my weapons in the dirt as I fling myself at him. "Peeta?" I say softly. I brush the damp blond strands of hair back from his forehead, find the pulse drumming against my fingers at his neck.

His lashes flutter open and his eyes meet mine. "Careful," he says weakly. "There's a force field up ahead."

I laugh, but there are tears running down my cheeks.

"Must be a lot stronger than the one on the Training Center roof," he says. "I'm all right, though. Just a little shaken."

"You were dead! Your heart stopped!" I burst out, before really considering if this is a good idea. I clap my hand over my mouth because I'm starting to make those awful choking sounds that happen when I sob.

"Well, it seems to be working now," he says. "It's all right, Katniss." I nod my head but the sounds aren't stopping. "Katniss?" Now Peeta's worried about me, which adds to the insanity of it all.

"It's okay. It's just her hormones," says Finnick. "From the baby." I look up and see him, sitting back on his knees but still panting a bit from the climb and the heat and the effort of bringing Peeta back from the dead.

"No. It's not —" I get out, but I'm cut off by an even more hysterical round of sobbing that seems only to confirm what Finnick said about the baby. He meets my eyes and I glare at him through my tears. It's stupid, I know, that his efforts make me so vexed. All I wanted was to keep Peeta alive, and I couldn't and Finnick could, and I should be nothing but grateful. And I am. But I am also furious because it means that I will never stop owing Finnick Odair. Ever. So how can I kill him in his sleep?

I expect to see a smug or sarcastic expression on his face, but his look is strangely quizzical. He glances between Peeta and me, as if trying to figure something out, then gives his head a slight shake as if to clear it.

I clutch onto Peeta and sob, I cannot seem to make myself stop. What is wrong with me? I don't cry like this, I don't cry this much. Being pregnant during the Games is probably the worst thing in the world because I just cannot hold myself together at all. I'm crumbling to pieces. The need to keep Peeta alive has just intensified. I know now that I cannot live without Peeta. That I will be an absolute mess if someone takes him away from me. The thought issues new tears in my eyes. Dear God, Katniss. Pull yourself together!

I choke out the last of the sobs and let go of Peeta but I clutch his hand as we continue walking. I insist that I lead, Peeta tries to argue it, but Finnick agrees o I let go of Peeta's hand and throw nuts at the force field as I walk so we don't have any repeats of the last hour. Peeta and Finnick help Mags walk through the foliage.

"Hang on," I say stepping towards a tree. I hear Peeta protesting behind me, no surprise there but I ignore him and climb anyway. He mumbles something that I can't hear. At the top of the tree I can see the Cornucopia. It's a complete circle. I slide an arrow out and shoot it at the sky, when it makes contact I realize exactly the kind of shaped field we're in.

As I hop down from the tree Peeta comes over and under his breath mutters, "Don't do that again!" I just pat him on the cheek and walk back over to Finnick. If I need to climb a tree I'm going to climb a tree, Peeta Mellark is not going to keep me from climbing a tree.

"The arena seems to be set up like a dome, so here we're at the edge of the arena."

"We need to find some water," Finnick adds. "Until then you should get some rest."

He's right but I don't quite trust him yet, "not a chance."

"Honey," Finnick straightens up and switches his trident to his other hand. "That thing I did back there, for Peeta, that was called saving his life. If I wanted to kill either of you I'd have done it already." Real hurt registers in his face and I can't help but feel a bit guilty. Maybe I was too harsh on Finnick. And he did save Peeta's life.

I gently caress Peeta's face, "you should get some sleep." He gives me a funny look. "I can't sleep, but you should." He agrees but insists for only a little. Well, we're so good at the "only a little" bit. We never listened to it in the cave last year, if nothing was happening we just let the other sleep…but I can tell these Games will be different, and why? Because I'm pregnant.

After waiting and waiting, Finnick talks, "How's Peeta?"

"He's alright, I think," I answer. Maybe I've judged Finnick too harshly. "Just dehydrated like the rest of us."

"We need to get some water," Finnick reiterates.

Hearing a strange beeping Finnick and I both look up, "Finnick!" I say even though I knows he's listening as I hurry over to get it. I open it up and both Peeta and Finnick are at either side of me.

"What is it?" they ask together.

"I think it's a spile?" I question myself.

"A spile?" Finnick asks.

"Yeah, you put it in a tree—" I start.

"And it drops sap," Peeta finishes. Aww. That's actually kind of cute. Katniss! "But there must be something else in these trees."

I run up to the nearest tree and reach back for Peeta who is already handing me his knife. I cut a small hole in the tree and push the spile back inside it. It doesn't take long till sap is spilling from the hole. I stick my mouth right up under it and get a drink. Next is Finnick. Mags and then Peeta. After we've had a fair amount to drink I take the spile from the tree and secure it around my belt. If we have to move fast we're going to need this.

Peeta and Mags lie back down and Finnick and I resume our seats on either side of a tree. Watching for anything. We see nothing and then there are twelve resounding gong sounds. "Midnight?" Finnick asks.

"For the number of Districts?" Then across the skyline we see lightning striking a tree in the distance. This goes on consistently for an hour and somehow both Peeta and Mags fall asleep. At some point Finnick does too. I nod off but feeling something wrong is about to happen, I open my eyes. And look around, there's nothing out there. Just fog. Fog? I tentatively walk over to the fog and I've just barely touched it when my hand is immediately wracked with pain. "RUN!" I yell as loud as possible. Finnick and Peeta jump to their feet. Finnick hoists Mags onto his back and Peeta grapples after my hand until he has it and then we run, but with Peeta's prosthetic leg he keeps tripping, and I seem to have acquired – lost – my sure footedness in light of being pregnant. We keep running but the fog seems to be coming from everywhere. For on split second I considered leaving Peeta behind, and was so upset with myself I pushed him in front of me.

I don't even know where the force field is anymore. I don't know where we are anymore. Then the fog is at our backs and we have to run faster. The fog catches Peeta and he rolls down, I rush over and drop down beside him, his face is all deformed looking. I can't carry him. I can't. If I did I would have hell to face from him, and would probably lose all of our sponsors. "I can't carry him," I plead with Finnick.

At the mention Mags kisses Finnick and walks right into the fog and the cannon sounds. "Mags!" Finnick calls after her but I am frantically shaking his arm. "Finnick! We have to move!" Finnick hoists Peeta over his shoulders and we keep running but just as the searing pain is all over our backs we fall through what seems to be some sort of divider. And I know that because I can see the fog going up like a wall behind us. Then Peeta is pointing in the air, "Mon-hees." Finnick and I both look up to see monkey's everywhere and these are the Hunger Games so they must be mutts, and mutts means bad, and bad means we need to move. We crawl down to the water and upon touching it I feel a searing pain, like salt in a wound. Of course, I wade myself into the water screaming in anguish but also relieved by the pain, I convince Peeta that it will help and he too comes in the water. As a team we have to get Finnick into the water.

After we've all recovered, Peeta and I more than Finnick, Peeta offers to go back into the jungle and find some water. Finnick keeps bobbing in the water. When he's been under so long I'm almost certain he's drowned I see his head pop back out.

"Don't do that," I say.

"What? Come up or stay under?" he says.

"Either. Neither. Whatever. Just soak in the water and behave," I say. Dear God I sound like a mother. I shake the thought away. "Or if you feel this good, let's go help Peeta."

In just the short time it takes to cross to the edge of the jungle, I become aware of the change. Put it down to years of hunting. But I sense the mass warm bodies poised above us. They don't need to chatter or scream. The mere breathing of so many is enough. My stomach lurches again, you know I'm amazed I haven't thrown up yet. I've seen plenty enough that would make it totally logical.

I touch Finnick's arm and he follows my gaze upward. I don't know how they arrived so silently. Perhaps they didn't. They've all assembled, just five or ten, but scores of monkey's weigh down the limbs of the jungle trees. The pair we spotted when we first escaped the fog felt like a welcoming committee. This crew feels ominous. My skin is crawling and for the first time since we entered the Games, I'm not thinking of myself or Peeta, but the poor defenseless one that's here against it's will. I'm not dying by monkey that's for damn sure.

I arm my bow with two arrows and Finnick adjusts the trident in his hand. "Peeta," I say as calmly as possible. "I need your help with something." Oh please don't say something stupid and wait, I'm not going to lose you to these monkey's either.

"Okay, just a minute. I think I've just about got it," he says, still occupied with the tree. Of course he doesn't listen right away, only people who know they're in danger move right away. "Yes, there. Have you got the spile?"

"I do. But we've found something you'd better take a look at," I continue in a measured breath. Damnit Peeta! We don't have time for this. "Only move toward us quietly, so you don't startle it." I don't want him to notice the monkeys, or even glance their way. There are creatures that interpret mere eye contact as aggression. Come on Peeta! It's all I can do to keep from yelling at him.

Peeta turns to us, panting from his work on the tree. The tone of my request is so off that it's altered him to some irregularity. "Okay," he says casually. He begins to move through the jungle, and although I know he's trying hard to be quiet, this has never been his strong suit, even when he had two sound legs. But it's all right, he's moving, the monkeys are holding their positions. He's just five yards from the beach when he senses them. Oh my god, please don't look at them. Please don't do something stupid. Please just come to me. His eyes only dart up for a second, but it's as if he's triggered a bomb. The monkeys explode into a shrieking mass of orange fur and converge on him.

I've never seen any animal move that fast. They slide down the vines as if the things were greased. Leap impossible distances from tree to tree. Fangs bared, hackles raised, claws shooting out like switchblades. I may be unfamiliar with monkeys, but animals in nature don't act like this. "_Mutts!_" I spit out as Finnick and I crash into the greenery.


	9. Chapter 9

_**A lot of this chapter is from the book with a few little bits thrown in there. This was kind of a hard chapter to write entirely on creativity since it's right in the book. So reviews on this chapter especially would be greatly appreciated! Thank you in advance. :-)**_

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And I'm terrified. Terrified for Peeta, especially. I'm not going to lose him in the Games, I absolutely refuse! Oh why couldn't he have just kept looking at me and realized the gravity of the situation and kept his head down?! Because he would look around. My tone probably didn't help at all. Great job, Katniss! If he dies it'll be your fault.

I know ever arrow must count, and they do. In he eerie light, I bring down monkey after monkey, targeting eyes and hearts and throats, so that each hit means a death. But still it wouldn't be enough without Finnick spearing the beasts like fish and flinging them aside. Peeta slashing away with his knife. I want to be defending Peeta, keeping him alive but all I can think about now is self-preservation. I feel claws on my leg, down my back, before someone takes out the attacker. Peeta and Finnick and I position ourselves in a triangle, a few yards apart, our backs to one another. My heart sinks as my fingers draw back my last arrow. Then I remember Peeta has a sheath, too. And e's not shooting, he's hacking away with that knife. My own knife is out now, but the monkeys are quicker, can spring in and out so fast you can barely react.

"Peeta!" I shout. "Your arrows!"

Peeta turns to see my predicament and is sliding the sheath with it happens. A monkey lunges out of a tree for his chest. I have no arrow, no way to shoot. I can hear the sound of Finnick's trident finding another mark and know his weapon is occupied. Peeta's knife arm is disabled as he tries to remove the sheath. I throw my knife at the oncoming mutt but the creature somersaults, evading the blade, and stays in its trajectory. I'm going to lose Peeta if I don't so something fast.

Weaponless, defenseless, I do the only thing I can think of. I run for Peeta, to knock him to the ground to protect his body with mine, even though I know I won't make it in time. _Oh God, I won't make it in time!_

She does, though. Materializing, it seems, from thin air. One moment nowhere, the next reeling in front of Peeta. Already bloody, mouth open in a high-pitched scream, pupils enlarged so her eyes seem like black holes. Another person has saved Peeta when I've failed to. This mission seems to get more and more impossible as time goes by.

The insane morphling from District 6 throws up her skeletal arms as if you embrace the monkey, and it sinks it's fangs into her chest.

Peeta drops the sheath and buries his knife into the monkey's back, stabbing it again and again until it releases its jaw. He kicks the mutt away, bracing for more. I have his arrows now, a loaded boy, and Finnick at my back, breathing hard but not actively engaged.

"Come on, then! Come on!" shouts Peeta, panting with rage. But something has happened to the monkeys. They are withdrawing, backing up trees, fading into the jungle, as if some unheard voice calls them away. A Gamemaker's voice telling them this is enough.

"Get her," I say to Peeta. "We'll cover you."

Peeta gently lifts up the morphling and carries her the last few yards to the beach while Finnick and I keep our weapons at the ready. But except for the orange carcasses on the sand, the monkeys are gone. Peeta lays the morphling on the sand.

Finnick offers to stand guard, and I don't deter him. Peeta is talking to the morphling. Talking about paint and finding just the right color and the process he went through to get it to the perfect shade. It's really a very simple story, but it does just what he means it to do. It distracts her, however briefly from her current circumstances. She passes out of this life easily with Peeta's story, of course his voice would sooth anyone that's dying…perhaps I'll hear him tell me a story before I die.

Peeta carries her out into the water. He returns and sits beside me. The morphling floats out towards the Cornucopia for awhile, then the hovercraft appears and a four-pronged claw drops, encases her, carries her into the night sky, and she is gone. I realize I will never be able to thank her for saving Peeta. Am I completely inept that I need everyone to save Peeta? Maybe Haymitch made even more allies than I thought…but that still doesn't explain why she would die to save Peeta. My head starts hurting again and the nauseous feeling returns. I'm a wreck.

Finnick rejoins us, his fist full of my arrows still wet with monkey blood. He drops them beside me on the sand. "Thought you might want these."

"Thanks," I say. I wade into the water and wash off the gore, from my weapons, my wounds. By the time I return to the jungle to gather some moss to dry them all the monkeys' bodies have vanished.

"Where did they go?" I ask.

"We don't know exactly. The vines shifted and they were gone," says Finnck.

Peeta is able to find the tree again and we drink the water that comes pouring out. I hadn't realized just how thirsty I was. It's still night, though dawn can't be too many hours away. Unless the Gamemaker's want it to be. "Why don't you two get some rest?" I say. "I'll watch for awhile."

"No, Katniss, I'd rather," says Finnick. I look in his eyes, at his face, and realize he's barely holding back tears. Mags. The least I can do is give him the privacy to mourn her.

"All right, Finnick, thanks," I say. I lie down on the sand with Peeta, who drifts off at once. I don't know how he can't sleep so well in the arena's, I find good sleep unnerving. I stare into the night, thinking of what a difference a day makes. How yesterday morning, Finnick was on my kill list, and now I'm willing to sleep with him as my guard. He saved Peeta and let Mags die and I don't know why. Only that I can never settle the balance owed between us. All I can do at this moment is go to sleep and let him grieve in peace. And so I do.

It's midmorning when I open my eyes again. Peeta's still out beside me. I seriously don't know how he can sleep through any of this. My whole body is always so much on alert that even when I do sleep I don't feel rested when I wake. Above us, a mat of grass suspended on branches shields our faces from the sunlight. I sit up and see that Finnick's hands have not been idle. Two woven bowls are filled with fresh water. A third holds a mess of shellfish.

Finnick sits on the sand, cracking them open with a stone. "They're better fresh," he says, ripping a chunk fro a shell and popping it into his mouth. His eyes are still puffy but I pretend not to notice. I would probably – I have been – worse than this when Peeta died.

My stomach begins to growl at the smell of food and I reach for one. Fed up, I stomp back onto the beach, turn my face upward, and snap. "Hey, Haymitch, if you're not too drunk, we could use a little something for out skin."

It's almost funny how quickly the parachute appears above me. I reach up and the tube lands squarely in my open hand. "About time," I say, but I can't keep the scowl on my face. Haymitch. What I wouldn't give for five minutes conversation with him. Finnick and I sit down on the sand and apply the ointment to our skin.

"It's like you're decomposing," says Finnick.

"Poor Finnick. Is this the first time in your life you haven't looked pretty?" I say.

"It must be. The sensation's completely new. How have you managed it all these years?" he asks.

"Just avoid mirrors. You'll forget about it," I say.

"Not if I keep looking at you," he says.

We slather ourselves down, even taking turns rubbing the ointment onto each other's backs where the undershirts don't protect our skin. "I'm going to wake Peeta," I say.

"No, wait," says Finnick. "Let's do it together. Put our faces right in front of his."

Well, there's so little opportunity for fun left in my life, I agree. We position ourselves on either side of Peeta, I'm smiling. We lean over until our faces are inches from his nose, and give him a shake. "Peeta. Peeta, wake up." I say in a soft, singsong voice.

His eyelids flutter open and then he jumps like we've stabbed him. "Aa!"

Finnick and I fall back in the sand, laughing our heads off. Every time we try to stop, we look at Peeta's attempt to maintain a disdainful expression and it sets us off again. By the time we pull ourselves together, I'm thinking that maybe Finnick Odair is all right. At least not as vain or self-important as I'd thought. Not so bad at all, really. And just as I've come to this conclusion, a parachute lands next to us with a fresh loaf of bread. Remembering from last year how Haymitch's gifts are often timed to send a message, I make a note to myself. Be friends with Finnick. You'll get food.

After a huge wave propels from one area and crashes onto the Cornucopia we notice that we're not alone anymore. Johanna, Wiress and Beetee are on the beach with us now. Finnick doesn't hesitate in running over to her. Apparently Haymitch was not idle getting us allies. I never wanted this many allies, I never wanted any allies besides Peeta. I don't want to like someone and then have to kill them, I've already started to like Finnick too much.

Wiress keeps saying, "tick, tock." Beetee is clearly exhausted and Johanna is going on and on about blood rain that they encountered. "Tick, tock. Tick, tock."

"Yeah, we know. Tick, tock. Nuts is in shock," says Johanna. This seems to draw Wiress in her direction and she careens into Johanna, who harshly shoves her to the beach. "Just stay down, will you?"

"Lay off her," I snap.

Johanna narrows her brown eyes at me in hatred. "Lay off her?" she hisses. She steps forward before I can react and slaps me so hard I see stars. "Who do you think got them out of that bleeding jungle for you? You—" Peeta pulls me back and Finnick tosses her writhing body over his shoulder and carries her out into the water and repeatedly dunks her while she screams a lot of really insulting things at me. But I don't shoot. Because she's will Finnick and because of what she said, about getting them out for me.

"What did she mean? She got them out for me?" I ask Peeta.

"I don't know. You did want them originally," he reminds me.

"Yeah. I did. Originally." But that answers nothing.

Peeta takes care of Beetee while I manage Wiress. "Tick, tock." She does seem to be trying to tell me something, but with no Beetee to explain her thoughts, I'm a a loss.

"Yes, tick, tock. Tick, tock," I say. This seems to calm her down a little. I wash out her jumpsuit until there's hardly a trace of blood, and help her back into it. A bit later on the beach, Finnick tells about the fog and monkeys in a detached, almost clinical voice, avoiding the most important detail of the story.

Everybody offers to guard while the others rest, but in the end, it's Johanna and I who stay up. Me because I'm really rested, she because she simply refuses to lie down. The two of us sit in silence on the beach until the other's have gone to sleep. I've gone back and forth between being nauseous all day and now it no exception. I would prefer to be near Peeta, but he needs sleep more than I do.

Johanna glances over at Finnick, to be sure, then turns to me. "How'd you lost Mags?"

"In the fog. Finnick had Peeta. I had Mags for awhile. Then I couldn't lift her. Finnick said he couldn't take them both. She kissed him and walked right into the poison," I say.

"She was Finnick's mentor, you know," Johanna says accusingly.

"No, I didn't," I say.

"She was half his family," she says a few moments later, but there's less venom behind it.

We watch the water lap up over the undergarments. "So what were you doing with Nuts and Volts?" I ask.

"I told you — I got them for you. Haymitch said if we were to be allies I had to bring them to you," says Johanna. "That's what you told him, right?"

No, I think. But I nod my head in assent. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"I hope so." She gives me a look filled with loathing, like I'm the biggest drag possible on her life. I wonder if this is what it's like to have an older sister who really hates you.

"Tick, tock," I hear behind me. I turn and see Wiress has crawled over. Her eyes are focused on the jungle.

"Oh, goody, she's back. Okay, I'm going to sleep. You and Nuts can guard together," Johanna says. She goes over and flings herself down beside Finnick.

"Tick, tock," whispers Wiress. I guide her in front of me and get her to lie down, stroking her arm to soothe her. She drifts off, stirring restlessly, occasionally sighing out her phrase. "Tick, tock."

"Tick, tock," I agree softly. "It's time for bed. Tick, tock. Go to sleep."

The sun rises in the sky until it's directly over us. It must be noon, I think absently. Not that it matters. Across the water, off to the right, I see the enormous flash as the lightning bolt hits the tree and the electrical storm begins again. Right in the same area it did last night. Someone must have moved into its range, triggered the attack. I sit for a while watching the lightning, keeping Wiress calm, lulled into a sort of peacefulness by the lapping of the water. I think of last night, how the lightning began just after the bell tolled. Twelve bongs.

"Tick, tock," Wiress says, surfacing to consciousness for a moment and then going back under.

Twelve bongs last night. Like it was midnight. Then lightning. The sun overhead now. Like it's noon. And lightning.

For the first time since we entered the arena I feel like I can control something, like maybe if I figure out how this works I can still keep Peeta safe. I have to try. I have to do everything that I possibly can to get Peeta back to District 12. I'm starting to choke on the idea of me going back instead. Then my stomach starts to hurt. Of course I'm uncomfortable, I'm _supposed_ to be eating for two, but I can barely eat enough for one without stamping a big "x" on my chest telling everyone that Peeta wasn't lying.

Slowly I rise up and survey the arena. The lightning there. In the next pie wedge over came the blood rain, where Johanna, Wiress, and Beetee were caught. We would have been in the third section, right next to that, when the fog appeared. And as soon as it was sucked away, the monkeys began to gather in the fourth. Tick, tock. My head snaps to the other side. A couple of hours ago, at around ten, that wave came out of the second section to the left of where the lightning strikes now. At noon. At midnight. At noon.

"Tick, tock," Wiress says in her sleep. As the lightning ceases and the blood rain begins just to the right of it, her words suddenly make sense.

"Oh," I say under my breath. "Tick, tock." My eyes sweep around the full circle of the arena and I know she's right. "Tick, tock. This is a clock."


	10. Chapter 10

_**I just wanted to say you guys are adorable with your, "please update soons!" I've written you ten chapters in three days! lol. What more do you want? ;-) Well you're lucky I like this story...here's the next chapter...**_

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At the realization I start yelling at everyone to get up, a little more frantic than I meant to sound and Peeta shoots straight up and his face is crazed, a look of serene worry on it. _Oops._ The rest of the group sits up and Peeta asks panting, "what's wrong?" I really worried him. Well, not I just feel bad. He gets up and walks over to me. Finnick and Johanna following him.

"What is it?" Finnick asks genuinely curious.

"Tick, tock," Wiress says again.

Johanna throw her arms in the air. "We're not here because of Nuts are we?"

What? I shake my head. "No. But she is right. Tick, tock. It's a clock." I gesture around to the rest of the arena. "The arena is a clock. That's why she's been saying tick, tock for so long. She was trying to tell us that it was a clock and as clearly as she could say it was in the form of tick, tock."

"Okay, so what does that mean?" Johanna asks.

"No, I don't think you understand," I stress. "It's set up like a clock. Every wedge is a different time with a different threat every hour. And then at midnight and noon lightning strikes—"

"That tree!" Finnick shouts. I nod. "So we should figure out what is where."

"I agree," says Peeta. "But I think we need to restock our supplies and get more weapons if we need to. None of the Careers are out here so now's as good a time as any to do it. I'll make up a map of the arena too, so we know where everything is." Everyone agrees and we walk to the Cornucopia. Once there Peeta starts to make a map, the 1-to-2 o'clock is the lightning; 2-to-3 is the blood rain; 3-to-4 is the fog; 4-to5 is the monkeys. The only other one's we know are 6-to-7 is some sort of beast, we've all agreed to stay away from there. And the 10-to-11 o'clock wedge is the giant wave we saw earlier.

Wiress who had been singing some song about a mouse and a clock is instantly stopped by a gasp, we all turn around to see that Gloss has stabbed her. I shoot an arrow at Gloss and he falls into the water, dead. Cashmere comes up at that same time and Johanna shoves me out of the way and get Cashmere with her ax. I take off running after Brutus – Finnick stops Peeta from following me, which is a relief, he'd get himself just following me – and Johanna follows me, but just as I'm about to lock onto Brutus the Cornucopia begins to spin. I fall to my feet and so does Johanna as we fall to the ground and dig our hands into the sand. If I hadn't been feeling nauseous already, I'd definitely be feeling it now. God, this poor kid is getting the worst mother in the world…well not that I can help this exactly. We continue to spin and spin and spin, when I lose my grip and start to go towards the water, Johanna reaches out and grabs my hand and I hang on but the speed at which we're spinning is too strong and I'm pulled off by the sheer force of the turning.

For a moment I think this might be how I end, drowning. Definitely not a good way to die, but then the Cornucopia stops spinning almost instantly and I barely have enough energy to get to the bridge – of sorts – and I weakly start to pull myself up, and then Johanna is there picking me up the rest of the way. As soon as I think about Peeta he's there and Johanna has stepped back. He helps me to my feet. "Are you okay?" he asks frantically. I nod, but that's as much as I have strength for.

"Let's just get what we need and get off the bloody island," Johanna says from behind Peeta. We salvage what we can from the Cornucopia and head back to land. We sit in front of the 5-to-6 section to rest and catch our breath. I look around the circle and realize that Finnick, Beetee, and Johanna have all lost the other tribute from their district and I walk over to Peeta and throw my arms around him. No one says anything for a long time. I've laid back with my knees in the air. One arm draped over my eyes, the other resting on my stomach when I hear a scream from the jungle behind us and sit bolt upright.

_Katniss! Katniss help me!_ Prim! I just up and yank my bow off the ground as I head into the jungle, Finnick is close behind me as he's probably the fastest runner beside me. Peeta is behind us yelling for me to stop. "Katniss, no! Katniss wait!" But I keep running when I stop in a clearing, I still hear the screams…but they're coming from, above me? I look up and see where the sound is coming from. A jabberjay. I don't hesitate when I take an arrow and shoot it down. Taking a deep breath I attempt to pull myself back together when another voice calls out.

_Finnick! Finnick!_ And I can't stop him he starts running. "Annie! Annie!" he yells as he rushes toward the sound of her voice. I have to pick up my pace to catch up to him. I grab his arm and pull him back, "Finnick it's not her! It's just a jabberjay." I'm willing myself to remember this as well.

"Jabberjays copy, how do you think they got those screams?" Finnick is distraught and now I am too, and that's when they come. Scores of birds are coming our way. Prim's voice. My mother's voice. Madge's voice. Gale's voice. Peeta's voice. Peeta's voice? What happened to Peeta? Oh my god I left him back at the beach! No he followed me. Where is he? "Peeta?" I call out. "Peeta!" I can barely hear myself yell let alone think.

I stop fighting Finnick, though, and like the night in the fog, I flee what I can't fight. What can only do me harm. Only this time it's my heart and not my body that's disintegrating. This must be another weapon of the clock. Four o'clock, I guess. When the hand tick-tock onto the four, the monkeys go home and the jabberjays come out to play. Finnick is right—getting out of here is the only thing to do. Although there will be nothing Haymitch can send in a parachute that will help either Finnick or me recover from the wounds the birds have inflicted.

I catch sight of Peeta and Johanna standing at the tree line and I'm filled with a mixture of relief and anger. Why didn't Peeta come to help me? Why did no one come after us? Even now he hangs back, his hands raised, palms toward us, lip moving but no words reaching us. Why?

The wall is so transparent, Finnick and I run smack into it and bounce back onto the jungle floor. I'm lucky. My shoulder too the worst of the impact and my front is fine, whereas Finnick hit face-first and now his nose I gushing blood. This is why Peeta and Johanna and even Beetee, who I see sadly shaking his head behind them, have not come to our aid. An invisible barrier blocks the area in front of us. It's not a force field. You can touch the hard, smooth surface all you like. But Peeta's knife and Johanna's ax can't make on dent on it. I know without checking more than a few feet to one side, that it encloses the entire four-to-five o'clock wedge. That we will be trapped like rats until the hour passes.

Peeta presses his hand against the surface and I put my own up to meet it, as if I can feel him through the wall. I see his lips moving but I can't hear him, can't hear anything outside our wedge. I try to make out what he's saying but I can't focus, so I just stare at his face, doing my best to hang onto my sanity.

Then the birds begin to arrive. One by one. Perching in the surrounding branches. And a carefully orchestrated chorus of horror begins to spill out of their mouths. Finnick gives up at once, hunching on the ground, clenching his hands over his ears as if he's trying to crush his skull. I try to fight for a while. Emptying my quiver of arrows into the hated birds. But every time one drops dead, another quickly takes its place. And finally I give up and curl up beside Finnick, trying to block out the excruciating sounds.

I know its stopped when I feel Peeta's hand on my, feel myself lifted from the ground and out of the jungle. But I stay eyes squeeze shut, hands over my ears, muscles too rigid to release. Peeta holds me on his lap, speaking soothing words, rocking me gently. I can't help but thinking how great of a father he will be. It just won't be with me and this baby. But he'll meet someone else. He'll love…someone…I don't want Peeta to love anyone else. It takes a long time before I begin to relax the iron grip on my body. And when I do the trembling begins.

"It's all right, Katniss," he whispers.

"You didn't hear them," I answer.

"I heard Prim. Right in the beginning. But it wasn't her," he says. "It was a jabberjay."

"It was her. Somewhere. The jabberjay just recorded it," I say.

"No, that's what they want you to think. The same way I wondered if Glimmer's eyes were in that mutt last year. But those weren't Glimmer's eyes. And that wasn't Prim's voice. Or if it was, they took it from an interview or something and distorted the sound. Made it say whatever she was saying," he says.

"No, they are torturing her," I answer. "She's probably dead."

"Katniss, Prim isn't dead. How could they kill Prim? We're almost down to the final eight of us. And what happens then?" Peeta says.

"Seven more of us die," I say hopelessly. Well, it'd actually be eight…but who's counting?

"No, back home. What happens when they reach the final eight tributes in the Games?" he lifts my chin so I have to look at him. Forces me to make eye contact. "What happens? At the final eight?"

"I know he's trying to help me, so I make myself think. "At the final eight?" I repeat. "They interview your family and friends back home."

"That's right," says Peeta. "They interview your family and friends. And can they do that if they've killed them all?"

"No?" I ask, still unsure.

"No. That's how I know Prim's alive. She'll be the first one they interview, won't she?" he asks.

I want to believe him. Badly. It's just…those voices…

He lists off all the people they would interview. He includes Gale, but I think that's for the benefit of the audience, because neither of us are okay with him…and I never told him about Gale kissing me…great. That is so not a topic for the arena. Maybe I'll just die letting him live on in blissful ignorance.

"It was just a trick, Katniss. A horrible one. But we're the one's who can be hurt by it. We're the ones in the Games. Not them."

"You really believe that?" I say.

"I really do," says Peeta. I waver, thinking how Peeta can make anyone believe anything. I look over at Finnick for confirmation, see he's fixated on Peeta, his words. For the first time I realize how lucky I am to have Peeta. He could be like Ga—someone else—who doesn't really try to comfort but to try to brush the stuff away. He really does look out for me. How could I have treated him so bad for so long. When I look at him now…those blue eyes…KATNISS! You're going to die, try not to get more attached than you already are!

"Do you believe it, Finnick?" I ask.

"It could be true. I don't know," he says. "Could they do that, Beetee? Take someone's regular voice and make it…"

"Oh, yes. It's not even that difficult, Finnick. Our children learn a similar technique in school," says Beetee.

"Of course Peeta's right. The whole country adores Katniss's little sister. If they really killed her like this, they'd probably have an uprising on their hands," say Johanna flatly. "Don't want that, do they?" She throws back her head and shouts, "How does that sound Snow? You know you can't put everybody in here!"

My mouth drops open in shock. No one, ever, says anything like this in the Games. Absolutely, they've cut away from Johanna, are editing her out. "What?" she asks seeing all of our stunned faces, "They can't hurt me. I'm not like the rest of you. There's no one left that I love." She turns and with an emotionless, "I'm going to get water," and is gone from sight.

When she comes back she's brought water and my arrows with her, I thank her as she drops to the sand beside me. I'm not quite sure how to ask so I just come right out with it, "Who's Annie?"

"Annie Cresta. She was the girl Mags volunteered for. She four—five—years ago," she says.

"She the one who went a little—?" I ask.

"Mhm," she mumbles, but her eyes go over to Finnick. "Love is weird." I look at Peeta. He's watching Finnick so he doesn't notice. But as I think about that, I realize she's right. Love is weird. It's easily mistaken for dislike—well, maybe that's just my case—but, it's so complicated. Peeta and I are a perfect example of that fact. Fake the entire first arena – okay not the entire time, but I did fake a lot of it, then go home and never talk…though I even admitted to myself that there was always a longing that I felt for him, but I pushed it away. On the Victory Tour, he slept in my room with me, and I still pushed him away…as far as how I felt. Then we got married…

The thought stops me, and I start playing with my rings again, I'd forgotten I was still wearing them. _For some reason,_ the Gamemaker's thought we should keep them. Probably some sadistic reason, but whatever the reason I have them with me now. Peeta is still watching Finnick, as is Johanna, when Beetee speaks up.

"I have a plan…"


	11. Chapter 11

_**This is the last chapter for the Catching Fire portion of the story, Chapter 12 will start the Mockingjay portion. Please leave reviews and let me know what you thought about this part! Any comment would be appreciated! And thank you to all of you who review regularly, or semiregularly, it means a lot to me.**_

_**Also, heads up, I cried writing the end...so maybe you want to have a tissue with you...**_

* * *

Beetee explains his plan to us about the tree and using the lightning with the help of a wire to electrocute the water and anything wet surrounding it. It sounds like a good sound plan that will work so we all agree.

"What can we do to help?"

"Keep me alive," says Beetee.

Peeta and I volunteer for the first watch because we're better rested, and because we want some time alone. The others go out immediately, although Finnick's sleep is restless. Every now and then I hear him murmuring Annie's name. And I wonder if that will be Peeta when I'm gone. _"My nightmares are usually about losing you, I'm okay when I realize you're here." _ Its like a persistent hammer in my head. Peeta will not be okay if I die anymore than I will be okay if he dies. Boy, we are tragic.

Peeta and I sit on the damp sand, facing away from each other, my right shoulder and hip pressed against his. I watch the water as he watches the jungle, which is better for me. I'm still haunted by the voices of the jabberjays, which unfortunately the insects can't drown out. And then there's a whole new set of worries, and I feel guilty now more than ever about my plan to die for Peeta. Am I being selfish? After a while I rest my head against his shoulder. Feel his hand caress my hair.

"Katniss," he says softly, "it's no use pretending we don't know what the other one is trying to do." No, I guess there isn't, but it's no fun discussing it, either. Well, not for us, anyway. The Capitol viewers will be glued to their sets so they don't miss one wretched word.

"I don't know what kind of deal you think you've made with Haymitch, but you should know he made me promises as well." Of course, I know this, too. He told Peeta they could keep me alive so that he wouldn't be suspicious. "So I think we can assume he was lying to one of us."

This gets my attention. A double deal. A double promise. With only Haymitch knowing which one is real. I raise my head, meet Peeta's eyes. "Why are you saying this now?"

"Because I don't want you forgetting how different our circumstances are. If you die, and I live, there's no life for me at all back in District Twelve. You're my whole life," he says. And there is a lump in my throat. "I would never be happy again." I start to object but he puts a finger to my lips. "It's different for you. I'm not saying it wouldn't be hard. But there are other people who'd make your life worth living."

"Peeta pulls the chain with the gold disk from around his neck. He holds it in the moonlight so I can clearly see the mockingjay. Then his thumb slides along a catch I didn't notice before and the disk pops open. It's not solid, as I had thought, but a locket. And within the locket are photos. On the right side, my mother and Prim, laughing. And him, though he's not insisting on his staying alive, probably more like a memento than anything else.

There is nothing in the world that could break me faster at this moment than these three faces. And he makes a gesture that I know can only mean that he's talking about the baby, but I ignore that. After what I heard this afternoon … it is the perfect weapon.

"Your family needs you, Katniss," Peeta says."

"My family. My mother. My sister. To let me know I shouldn't ever have doubts about it. Everything. That's what Peeta wants me to take from him. Any I can feel my heart physically breaking. I wish he'd never started this conversation. As if the thought hadn't crossed my mind. I wait for him to mention the baby, but for some reason he doesn't.

"What about you?" I take a measured breath so my voice doesn't crack. The last thing I want if sympathy from the viewers. I mean I already got that with Peeta telling everyone about the baby…though I don't think anyone here believes it. Which I guess is fine, should make it easier for them to kill me. I hadn't realized how unfocused I had become until Peeta answers.

"No one really needs me," he says, and there's no self-pity in his voice. I choke down a sob, because this hurts more than I thought it would, but it's true his family doesn't need him. They will mourn him, as will a handful of friends. But they will get on. Even Haymitch, with the help of a lot of white liquor, will get on. I realize only one person will be damaged beyond repair if Peeta dies. Me.

"I do," I say. "I need you." He looks upset, takes a deep breath as if to begin a long argument, and that's no good, no good at all, because he'll start going on about Prim and my mother and the baby and everything and I'll just get confused. So before he can talk, I stop his lips with a kiss. I don't anticipate however just how much I've needed this. If this is our last moment to ourselves then I plan to take full advantage of it. I can't think of anything aside from this kiss. Peeta is always so gentle, but for the first time, I don't care about being gentle. I go to pull away briefly and he grabs my neck and pulls me back, I place my hand on top of his and am lost in his kiss. I'm lost in his touch. _"I wish I could freeze this moment and live in it for the rest of my life."_ And I do. More than anything I do not want to let go of him, for fear that I'll never get him back.

Peeta and I have kissed before that's nothing new, but there is an intensity in this one that I don't know if it can be stopped, and at this point I don't want it to be. I've unknowingly twisted fully in his direction and he in mine, we'd be the easiest target in the world right now, but I don't care. I'm so close to Peeta now that I can't see anything but him, and I don't want to. I want the last thing I see to be his face. Peeta's taken ahold of my face and my hands have grasped his underarms. Just when I think nothing could interrupt us, lightning strikes the tree and we both jump. It's midnight. Peeta pulls me down so my head is on his chest and he just holds me.

The lightning rouses Finnick as well. He sits up with a sharp cry. I see his fingers digging into the sand as he reassures himself that whatever nightmare he inhabited wasn't real.

"I can't sleep anymore," he says. "One of you should rest." Only then does he seem to notice our expressions, the way we're wrapped around each other. "Or both of you. I can watch alone."

Peeta won't let him, though. "It's too dangerous," he says. "I'm not tired. You lie down, Katniss." I don't object because I do need to sleep if I'm to be of any use keeping him alive. I let him lead me over to where the others are. He puts the chain with the locket around my neck, then rests his hand over the spot where our baby is. Oh God, where our baby _is._ "You're going to make a great mother, you know," he says. He kisses me one last time and goes back to Finnick.

I know I should sleep and eventually I'm sure I will, but all I can think about now, is that no matter who lives and who dies, we will both be damaged beyond repair. It's all I can do not to get back up and crawl into his strong arms and refuse to let go, but he told me to sleep and so I'll sleep. Before I sleep I think that if only one of us can be a parent, anyone can see it should be Peeta.

As I drift off, I try to imagine that world, somewhere in the future, with no Games, no Capitol. A place like the meadow in the song I sang to Rue as she died. Where Peeta's child could be safe.

When I wake, I have a brief, delicious feeling of happiness that is connected with Peeta. Happiness, of course, is a complete absurdity at this point, since at the rate things are going, I'll be dead in a day. I sit next to Peeta on the sand to eat my rolls. For some reason, it's difficult to look at him. Maybe it was all that kissing last night, although the two of us kissing isn't anything new. It might not even have felt any different for him. Maybe it's knowing the brief amount of time we have left. And how we're working at such cross-purposes when it comes to who should survive these Games.

Today is the day that we will carry out Beetee's plan. As we head for the tree I take the lead. The lightning tree's unmistakable as it towers so high above the others. I find a bunch of nuts and make everybody wait while I move slowly up the slope, tossing the nuts ahead of me. But I see the force field almost immediately, even before a nut hits it, because it's only about fifteen yards away. My eyes, which are sweeping the greenery before me, catch sight of the rippled square high up and to my right. I throw a nut directly in front of me and hear it sizzle in confirmation.

About this time we hear the sound of clicks rising from the sector adjacent to us. That means it's eleven o'clock. It's far louder in the jungle than it was on the beach last night. We all listen intently.

"It's not mechanical," Beetee says decidedly.

"I'd guess insects," I say. "Maybe beetles."

"Something with pincers," adds Finnick.

The sound swells, as if alerted by our quiet words to the proximity of live flesh. Whatever is making that clicking, I bet it could strip us to the bone in seconds.

"We should get out of here, anyway," says Johanna. "There's less than an hour before the lightning starts.

I look coolly into the blue eyes of the person who is now my greatest opponent, the person who would keep me alive at his own expense. And I promise myself I will defeat his plan.

The laughter drains from those eyes, and they are staring so intensely into mine, "it's like they can read my thoughts. "The locket didn't work, did it?" Peeta says, even though Finnick is right there. Even though everyone can hear him. "Katniss?"

"It worked," I say.

"But not the way I wanted it to," he says, averting his glance. After that he will look at nothing but oysters. Of course this would happen. I knew it would. He must resent me so much for being so stubborn to be willing to sacrifice more than just my own life. I still can't get over the guilt of knowing that when I die, I will taking two people from him.

There's nothing to do now but wait. Peeta and I sit at the edge of the water, hand in hand, wordless. He gave his speech last night but it didn't change my mind, and nothing I can say will change his. The time for persuasive gifts is over.

The work on the trunk's completed just as we hear the wave begin. I've never really worked out at what point in the ten o'clock hour it erupts. There must be some buildup, then the wave itself, then the aftermath of the flooding. But the sky tells me ten-thirty.

This is when Beetee reveals the rest of the plan. Since we move most swiftly through the trees, he wants Johanna and me to take the coil down through the jungle, unwinding the wire as we go. We are to lay it across the twelve o'clock beach and drop the metal spool, with whatever is left, deep into the water, making sure it sinks. Then run for the jungle. If we go now, right now, we should make it to safety.

"I want to go with them as a guard," Peeta says immediately. After the moment with the pearl, I know he's less willing than ever to let me out of his sight.

"You're too slow. Besides, I'll need you on this end. Katniss will guard," says Beetee. "There's no time to debate this. I'm sorry. If the girls are to get out of there alive, they need to move now." He hands the coil to Johanna.

I don't like the plan any more than Peeta does. In fact we both probably hate it the exact same. The last thing I want it to get separated from him. How can I protect him at a distance? But Beetee's right. With his leg, Peeta is too slow to make it down the slope in time. Johanna and I are the fastest and most sure-footed on the jungle floor. I can't think of any alternative. And if I trust anyone here besides Peeta, it's Beetee.

"It's okay," I tell Peeta. "We'll just drop the coil and come straight back up." His eyes are frantic with worry, and I know there is nothing I can say that will comfort him or me. For now, this is the hand we've been dealt. And for better or for worse, we're going to get split up.

"Not into the lightning zone," Beetee reminds me. "Head for the tree in the one-to-two-o'clock sector. If you find you're running out of time, move over one more. Don't even think about going back on the beach, though, until I can assess the damage."

I take Peeta's face in my hands. "Don't worry. I'll see you at midnight." I give him a kiss and, before he can object any further, I let go and turn to Johanna. "Ready?"

"Why not?" says Johanna with a shrug. She's clearly no happier about being teamed up than I am. But we're all caught up in Beetee's trap. "You guard, I'll unwind. We can trade off later."

"Without further discussion, we head down the slope. In fact there's very little discussion between us at all. We move at a pretty good clip, one manning the coil, the other keeping watch. About halfway down, we hear the clicking beginning to rise, indicating it's after eleven.

"Better hurry," Johanna says. "I want to put a lot of distance between me and that water before the lightning hits. Just in case Volts miscalculated something."

"I'll take the coil for a while," I say. It's harder work laying out the wire than guarding, and she's had a long turn.

"Here," Johanna says, passing me the coil.

"Both of our hands are still on the metal cylinder when there's a slight vibration. Suddenly the thin golden wire from above springs down at us, bunching in tangled loops and curls around our wrists. Then the severed end snakes up to our feet.

It only takes a second to register this rapid turn of events. Johanna and I look at each other, but neither of us has to say it. Someone not far above us has cut the wire. And they will be on us at any moment.

My hand frees itself from the wire and has just closed on the feathers of an arrow when the metal cylinder smashes into the side of my head. The next thing I know, I'm lying on my back in the vines, a terrible pain in my left temple. Something's wrong with my eyes. My vision blurs in and out of focus as I strain to make the two moons floating up in the sky into one. It's hard to breathe, and I realize Johanna's sitting on my chest, pinning me at the shoulders with her knees.

There's a stab in my left forearm. I try to jerk away but I'm still too incapacitated. Johanna's digging something, I guess the point of her knife, into my flesh, twisting it around. There's an excruciating ripping sensation and warmth runs down my wrist, filling my palm. She swipes down my arm and coats half my face with my blood.

"Stay down!" she hisses. Her weight leaves my body and I'm alone.

Stay down? I think. What? What is happening? My eyes shut, blocking out the inconsistent world, as I try to make sense of my situation.

All I can think of is Johanna shoving Wiress to the beach. "Just stay down, will you?" But she didn't attack Wiress. Not like this. I'm not Wiress, anyway. I'm not Nuts. "Just stay down, will you?" echoes around inside my brain.

Footsteps coming. Two pairs. Heavy, not trying to conceal their whereabouts.

Brutus's voice. "She's good as dead! Come on, Enobaria!" Feet moving into the night.

Am I? I drift in and out of consciousness looking for an answer. Am I as good as dead? I'm in no position to make an argument to the contrary. In fact, rational thinking is a struggle. This much I know. Johanna attacked me. Smashed that cylinder into my head. Cut my arm, probably doing irreparable damage to veins and arteries, and then Brutus and Enobaria showed up before she had time to finish me off.

The alliance is over. Finnick and Johanna must have had an agreement to turn on us tonight. I knew we should have left this morning. I don't know where Beetee stands. But I'm fair game, and so is Peeta.

_Peeta!_ My eyes fly open in panic. Peeta is waiting up by the tree, unsuspecting and off guard. Maybe Finnick has even killed him already. "No," I whisper. That wire was cut from a short distance away by the Careers. Finnick and Beetee and Peeta — they can't know what's going on down here. They can only be wondering what has happened, why the wire has gone slack or maybe even sprung back to the tree. This, in itself, can't be a signal to kill, can it? Surely this was just Johanna deciding the time had come to break with us. Kill me. Escape from the Careers. Then bring Finnick into the fight as soon as possible.

I don't know. I don't know. I only know that I must get back to Peeta and keep him alive. It takes every ounce of will I have to push up into a sitting position and drag myself up the side of a tree to my feet. It's lucky I have something to hold on to because the jungle's tilting back and forth. Without any warning, I lean forward and vomit up the seafood feast, heaving until there can't possibly be an oyster left in my body. Trembling and slick with sweat, I assess my physical condition. Still pregnant, still wobbly.

"Peeta. My dying wish. My promise. To keep him alive. My heart lifts a bit when I realize he must be alive because no cannon has fired. Maybe Johanna was acting alone. As I get nearer the tree I know that when the insects go silent, the lightning will start. I have to move faster. I have to get to Peeta.

The boom of a cannon pulls me up short. Someone has died.

The tree swims into view, its trunk festooned with gold. I slow down, try to move with some stealth, but I'm really just lucky to be upright. I look for a sign of the others. No one. No one is there. "Peeta?" I call softly. "Peeta?" I'm in panic mood now. I need to find Peeta. I have to find Peeta. Peeta needs to be alive. I get to the tree and find Beetee unconscious, but alive.

I've got to get away from this tree and —

"Katniss!" I hear his voice though he's a far distance away. But what is he doing? Peeta must have figured out that everyone is hunting us by now. "Katniss!"

I can't protect him. I can't move fast or far and my shooting abilities are questionable at best. I do the one thing I can to draw the attackers away from him and over to me. "Peeta!" I scream out. "Peeta! I'm here! Peeta!" Yes, I will draw them in, any in my vicinity, away from Peeta and over to me and the lightning tree that will soon be a weapon in and of itself. "I'm here! I'm here!" He won't make it. Not with that leg in the night. He will never make it in time. "Peeta!"

It's working. I can hear them coming. Two of them. Crashing through the jungle. My knees start to give out and I sink down next to Beetee, resting my weight on my heels. My bow and arrow lift into position. If I can take them out, will Peeta survive the rest?

Another cannon.

"Katniss!" Peeta's voice howls for me. But this time I don't answer. Beetee still breathes faintly beside me. He and I will soon die. Finnick and Enobaria will die. Peeta is alive. Two cannons have sounded. Brutus, Johanna, Chaff. Two of them are already dead. That will leave Peeta with only one tribute to kill. And that is the very best I can do. One enemy.

_Enemy. Enemy._ The word is tugging at a recent memory. Pulling it into the present. The look on Haymitch's face. _"Katniss, when you're in the arena …"_ The scowl, the misgiving. _"What?"_ I hear my own voice tighten as I bristle at some unspoken accusation. _"You just remember who the enemy is," _Haymitch says_. "That's all."_

Haymitch's last words of advice to me. Why would I need reminding? I have always known who the enemy is. Who starves and tortures and kills us in the arena. Who will soon kill everyone I love.

My bow drops as his meaning registers. Yes, I know who the enemy is. And it's not Enobaria.

I finally see Beetee's knife with clear eyes. My shaking hands slide the wire from the hilt, wind it around the arrow just above the feathers, and secure it with a knot picked up in training.

I rise, turning to the force field, fully revealing myself but no longer caring. Only caring about where I should direct my tip, where Beetee would have driven the knife if he'd been able to choose. My bow tilts up at the wavering square, the flaw, the … what did he call it that day? The chink in the armor. I let the arrow fly, see it hit its mark and vanish, pulling the thread of gold behind it.

My hair stands on end and the lightning strikes the tree.

A flash of white runs up the wire, and for just a moment, the dome bursts into a dazzling blue light. I'm thrown backward to the ground, body useless, paralyzed, eyes frozen wide, as feathery bits of matter rain down on me. I can't reach Peeta. My eyes strain to capture one last image of beauty to take with me.

Right before the explosions begin, I find a star.

As the arena begins to fall apart I can see the hovercraft over me. The next thing I know I'm waking up inside it. I look around for any sign of Peeta. "Peeta…" I call quietly. But as I start walking I see nothing and no one. I don't know where to look and then I hear voices. Maybe Peeta's with them I think, hoping that I am right. I see a syringe and wanting to be able to defend myself with something I grab it.

"She's gonna lose it when she finds out about the boy," say Haymitch. Haymitch? What the hell is Haymitch doing in the hovercraft.

"But she'll still cooperate," says Plutarch Heavensbee. Plutarch? Haymitch what have you done?

"Without Peeta, there's no guarantee," Haymitch says.

Without Peeta? What does he mean by without Peeta? I start to have an problem breathing, I've been unknowingly moving closer to the door. "Just tell her when—" Finnick says as the door opens but stops upon seeing me.

I don't know what to think. How can they all be here? Why are they all here? Why are they together? What is going on? Why did Haymitch say without Peeta? I'm frantically scanning their faces for anything but all I see is hesitation and dread. No one wants to say anything to me.

"Morning, sweetheart," Haymitch says with a smile. With a smile? I rush over to him arm and syringe in the air.

"What are you doing with them?" I blurt out.

"You and a syringe against the Capitol," says Haymitch pulling the syringe from my hand, "see this is why nobody let's you make the plans."

"The hell are you doing here?" I ask Finnick. No one is answering me. Why is no one answering me? What is going on?!

"Stop, stop, stop," Finnick says raising his hand to us. Even though I'm confused beyond belief something tells me to listen to Finnick. "Just listen."

"We couldn't tell you," says Haymitch. "With Snow watching you it's too risky. Better for you to know nothing."

I'm sick of not being told anything, and I need Peeta. "Where's Peeta?" I'm terrified of the answer. Terrified because of what I heard before I even got in here, and even more so now.

"Katniss," says Plutarch. "You have been our mission from the beginning. The plan was always to get you out. Half the tributes were in on it. This is the revolution, and you are the Mockingjay. And we're on our way to District 13 right now."

"Thirteen?" I ask.

"Yes," Plutarch answers.

"Where's Peeta?" I ask. Why won't anyone answer me?

"He still has his tracker in his arm," Haymitch says. "Johanna cut yours out."

"Where is he?" My heart is sinking. I don't want to hear it.

"In the Capitol." He pauses. "They got him and Johanna."

Oh my god! How could they let this happen? It doesn't take long for me to decide what to do as I fling myself at Haymitch. Pregnant women shouldn't be messed with and after this news the last thing you want to do is tell me that my husband has been taken prisoner and you're not going to do a damn thing about it!

"You son of a bitch!" I run at him and slap him several times. "You son of a—" I'm so emotional, I can't breath. "You promised you would save him over me! You promised me!" I can feel a needle in my back. "You're a liar!" I can't breathe, I can't think. My whole world has been ripped from me and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. "Haymitch…" I'm whimpering. "I…love…him…" and then I slip into a state of unconsciousness.

The next thing I know I wake up in a hospital room and Gale is looking down at me. For the moment I don't care what happened before the Quell. Gale has never lied to me. "Hey Catnip," he says. "You're okay, you've just been asleep for a few days. You just needed to rest."

"Where's Prim?" I ask but he doesn't answer. "Gale…where's Prim?" Worry is sucking out my oxygen like a vice.

"She's alive," he finally answers. "So's your mother. I got them out in time."

"Got them out?" My whole entire world is collapsing.

"After the Games they sent in hovercrafts. And they started dropping fire bombs."

"They're not in Twelve?" I can hear my voice crack.

"There is no District Twelve. It's all gone."

Everything I love…my home…Peeta…I don't have them anymore…

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_**I will probably have the next chapter up shortly, until then...I'm sorry for any tears shed in this chapter...**_


	12. Chapter 12

_**This begins the Mockingjay part of the story. Thanks for sticking around! You guys are**_** wonderful!**

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I don't know how long it's been since I was lifted from the arena. I can't be awake for more than ten minutes without having some sort of panic attack and they have to put me out again. It's terrible though, sleeping doesn't help me. I see Peeta die over and over and over again, and I'm helpless to do anything about it just like I'm helpless to do anything about it when I'm awake. The doctors refuse to move me anywhere else as they're worried about me and the baby. Miraculously we were both fine, which I found myself oddly thankful for, but at the same time. Peeta should be here for this. But he's not. I'm not as skinny as I once was either…though I'm sure part of that is in regards to the fact that I haven't gotten up and moved around in days—weeks? I have tubes in my arms constantly feeding me and hydrating me, I don't know that I could get myself to do it. I've been so unstable, I'll admit it, I'm unstable. I can't stay awake for long. Even Prim's presence doesn't calm me down, no only Peeta's could do that without him having to do anything…but he's not here. He's in the Capitol.

Snow has Peeta. I can only imagine what they're doing to him, and that sends me into a panic and I'm unconscious again only to be woken by nightmares. I can't get Peeta out of my mind for a moment. I had one job in that arena, to protect him, and I failed. Finnick failed. The whole damn rebellion failed. And no one is taking responsibility for it. I guess Haymitch has been in to check on me from time to time, but I haven't forgiven him. He lied to Peeta and me, about everything. About the rebellion about keeping him safe. No, I cannot forgive Haymitch for that…I won't forgive him for that.

_"Peeta, Peeta, Peeta." Snow hisses. "What were you thinking in there? What is it that the rebels have planned?" "I don't know!" Peeta yells at him. "Come now Peeta," Snow antagonizes him, "you expect me to believe that?" "Yes! I didn't know anything! And neither did Katniss! No one told us anything about what was going on! If you're going to kill me, why don't you do it already. Katniss will be fine." "Oh, Peeta," Snow shakes his head, "No. She won't be fine." "What have you done to her?" Peeta screams. "Nothing Peeta, we've done absolutely nothing to her. Couldn't even if we wanted to," then Snow smiles. "I'm sure she told you that she needed to convince me that she loved you?" "Yes, of course," Peeta says matter-of-factly. "Well, she did." His snakelike lips curve into a menacing smile and Peeta's eyes widen in horror._

I wake and I'm screaming for Peeta. I only just now can feel the bump on my belly. Wracked with emotional trauma from the dream and realizing how long I must have been laying on this bed being sedated over and over again. I yank the tubes from my arm and get to my feet. My legs are weak, and I should have realized that. I go to the end of the bed and yank the chart from it. Three weeks. I've been kept in this bed, in this room for three weeks. What is going on? Has anyone heard anything about Peeta? I can't coherently form any straight thoughts, my mind is so jumbled and foggy. Three weeks, and no one's given me an update on anything. This means I'm somewhere along the lines of two months and a week pregnant. That's nine weeks. The thought is overpowering. I start to make for the door as three doctors and Gale rush into the room. I just collapse to the floor as tears stream down my face. Gale comes over to me and throws his arm around me, and I accept them because I need someone to hold me. I need someone's around me, and I don't want to be sedated again. I'm sick of it.

"Katniss," he coos. "We've gotten the okay for you to go to Twelve. You'd asked one of the times you were coherent. And they want to help you in anyway they can, so they will let you do this one thing and see how you are after it. But you need to pull yourself together this week."

I nod, but my head is swimming and I have to fight whatever drugs are still in my system to stay alert. Gale stands me up and points to a chair. There's a gray shirt and gray pants draped over it. He says that I need to put those on and that he has my jacket outside. Gale leaves the room so I can dress and once I have I walk out the door. Gale holds out the jacket so all I have to do is put my arms into it. For that week I'm the model patient, person. And I'm okayed to go to 12. As we approach the hovercraft I see Plutarch Heavensbee is aboard, but I ignore him, even though I know he's probably responsible for this opportunity. I don't say anything the entire ride. Gale keeps a reassuring grip on me shoulders.

When we reach 12 they land so I can get out. Gale offers to come with me, but I can't stand having someone else with me. I assure him that I will be fine, but that I need to do this alone. He gives me a very measured look before letting me walk away from the hovercraft as it takes to the sky again. Walking around breaks my heart. I see where our first house used to be and there is nothing left. There's nothing left of anything. As I walk around the square I see just how many buildings are gone. The mayors house…Madge. I feel certain that if she was alive I would have seen her by now. No, Madge must have died. And then I see the bakery. I know Peeta's family didn't make it, which breaks me heart even though I'd never really been fans of theirs and I hated his mother for beating him. Peeta would have nothing to come home to, anyways. Except me… As I stand in the rubble I squeeze my eyes shut and try to reach for him across the hundreds and hundreds of miles, to send my thoughts into his mind, to let him know that he is not alone. But he is. And I can't help him.

Running from the square I head to my home in Victor's Village, they spared that part of 12 for some reason. I bolt into the house and slam the door shut, and lean against it. The place seems untouched. Clean. Eerily quiet. Why did I come back to 12? How can this visit help me answer the questions I can't escape?

"What am I going to do?" I whisper to the walls. Because I really don't know.

People keep talking at me, talking, talking, talking, talking. Plutarch Heavensbee. His calculating assistant, Fluvia Cardew. A mishmash of district leaders. Military officials. But not Alma Coin, the president of 12, who just watches. She's fifty or so, with gray hair that falls in an unbroken sheet to her shoulders. I'm somewhat fascinated by her hair, since it's so uniform, so without a flaw, a wisp, even a split end. Her eyes are gray, but not like those of people from the Seam. They're very pale, as if almost all the color has been sucked out of them. The color of slush that you wish would melt away.

What they want is for me to truly take on the role they designed for me. The symbol of the revolution. The Mockingjay. It isn't enough, what I've done in the past, defying the Capitol in the Games, providing a rallying point. I must now become the actual leader, the face, the voice, the embodiment of the revolution. The person who the districts—most of which are now openly at war with the Capitol—can count on to blaze the path to victory. I won't have to do it alone. They have a whole team of people to make me over, dress me, write my speeches, orchestrate my appearances—as if _that_ doesn't sound horribly familiar—and all I have to do is play my part. Sometimes I listen to them and sometimes I just watch the perfect line of Coin's hair and try to decide it it's a wig. Eventually, I leave the room because my head starts to ache or it's time to eat or if I don't get aboveground I might start screaming. I don't bother to say anything. I simply get up and walk out.

Yesterday afternoon, as the door was closing behind me, I heard Coin say, "I told you we should have rescued the boy first." Meaning Peeta. I couldn't agree more. He would've been an excellent mouthpiece.

And who did they fish out of the arena instead? Me, who won't cooperate. Not to mention, everyone thought the pregnancy was just a ruse. I barely see Beetee. He's very smart and very willing to help the cause, but not really firebrand material. Then there's Finnick Odair, the sex symbol from the fishing district, who kept Peeta alive in the arena when I couldn't. They want to transform Finnick into a rebel leader as well, but first they'll have to get him to stay awake for more than five minutes—sounds familiar, right? The doctors say its from the electrical shock he received in the arena but I know it's more complicated than that. I know that Finnick can't focus on anything happening in 13 because he's trying so hard to see what's happening in the Capitol to Annie, the mad girl from his district who's the only person on earth he loves.

Despite serious reservations, I had to forgive Finnick for his role in the conspiracy that landed me here. He, at least, has some idea of what I'm going through. And it takes too much energy to stay mad at someone who cries so much. I'm assuming this is the same way that Gale feels about me.

Moving through the house that Peeta and I lived in is heartbreaking at best. All I see are memories of when we were together and when we were happy…I am neither as of now. I'm not with Peeta and I'm not happy. I find and pick up my parents wedding day photo, a blue hair ribbon for Prim, the family book of medicinal and edible plants. The book falls open to a page with yellow flowers and I shut it quickly because it was Peeta's brush that painted them. Peeta. If I knew for sure he was dead, I could just disappear into the woods and never come back. But until I do, I'm stuck.

I find Prim's worthless cat Buttercup and throw him into a bag to take back to her. I go upstairs to grab my fathers hunting jacket from the closet in our bedroom. The soft leather feels soothing and for a moment I'm calmed by the memories of hours spend wrapped in it. Then, inexplicably, my palms begin to sweat. A dtrange sensation creeps up the back of my neck. I whip around to face the room and find it empty. Tidy. Everything in it's place. There is no sound to harm me. What, then?

My nose twitches. It's the smell. Cloying and artificial. A dab of what peeks out of a vase of dried flowers on my dresser. Flowers Peeta gave me, but one is not from Peeta. I approach it with cautious steps. There all but obsecured by it's preserve cousins, is a fresh white rose. Perfect. Down to the last thorn and silken petal.

And I know immediately who's sent it to me.

President Snow.

When I begin to gag at the stench, I back away and clear out. How long has it been here? A day? An hour? The rebels did a security sweep of the Victor's Village before I was cleared to come here, checking for explosives, bugs, anything unusual. But perhaps the rose didn't seem note worthy to them. Only to me.

A hovercraft materializes and a ladder drops down. I step on and the current freezes me until I'm lifted on board.

Gale helps me from the ladder. "You all right?"

"Yeah," I say, wiping the sweat off my face with my sleeve.

_He left me a rose!_ I want to scream, but it's not information I'm ure I should share with someone like Plutarch looking on. First of all, because it will make me sound crazy. And everyone thinks I'm just a crazy pregnant girl right now, so that wouldn't be helping me at all. Like I either imagined it, which is quite possible, or I'm overreacting, which will but me a trip back to a drug-induced dreamland I'm trying so hard to escape. No one will fully understand—how it's not just a flower, not even just President Snow's flower, but a promise of revenge—because no one else sat in the study with him when he threatened me before the Victory Tour.

Positioned on a dresser, that white-as-snow rose is a personal message to me. It speaks of unfinished business. It whispers, _I can find you. I can reach you. Perhaps I am watching you now._

When we get back to my compartment with my mother and Prim, _307_, I hesitate at the door anticipating the questions from my family. "What am I going to tell them about Twelve?" I ask Gale.

"I doubt they'll ask for details. They saw it burn. They'll mostly be worried about how you're handling it." Gale touches my cheek. "Like I am."

I press my face against his hand for a moment. "I'll survive." But I won't. Gale has been there for me since I got back. At first I thought it was just because since Peeta was taken he'd thought he had a chance again, and that's the way he acted until the doctor's confirmed I was pregnant. Since then he's been what he always should have been. My friend.

The next day when Gale and I are eating dinner, when his communicuff begins to beep it looks like an oversized watch, but it receives messages. Being granted a communicuff is a special privilege that's reserved for those important to the cause, a status Gale achieved by his rescue of the citizens of 12. "They need the two of us in Command," he says.

Trailing few steps behind Gale, I try to collect myself before I'm thrown into what's sure to be another relentless Mockingjay session. I linger in the doorway of Command, the high-tech meeting/war council room complete with computerized talking walls, electronic maps showing the troop movements in various districts, and a giant rectangular table with control panels I'm not supposed to touch. No one notices me, though, because they're all gathered at a television screen at the far end of the room that airs the Capitol broadcast around the clock. I'm thinking I might be able to slip away when Plutarch, whole ample frame has been clocking the television, catches sight of me and waves urgently for me to joining them. I reluctantly move forward, trying to imagine how it could be of interest to me. It's always the same. War footage. Propaganda. Replaying the bombings of District 12. An ominous message from President Snow. So it's almost entertaining to see Caesar Flickerman the eternal host of the Hunger Games, with his painted face and sparkly suit, preparing to give an interview. Until the camera pulls back and I see that his guest it Peeta.


	13. Chapter 13

A sound escapes me and my hand flies to my middle. The same combination of gasp and groan that comes from bring submerged in water, deprived of oxygen to the point of pain. I push people aside until I am right in front of him, my hand resting on his screen. I search his eyes for any sign of hurt, and reflection of agony or torture. There is nothing. Peeta looks healthy to the point of robustness. His skin is glowing flawless, in the full-body-polish way. His manners composed, serious. I can't reconcile this image with the battered, bleeding boy who haunts my dreams.

Knowing he's alive is a sensation that overcomes me. I can't even utter any word. I just hold my belly with my hand still on the screen. I don't even know what to think but Peeta is healthy, and he looks like no harm has come to him. My greatest fears have been wrong. How I wish I could reach through the screen and pull him to my side. What I wouldn't give for that to be possible.

Caesar settles himself more comfortable in the chair across from Peeta and gives him a long look. "So…Peeta…welcome back."

Peeta smiles slightly. "I bet you thought you'd done your last interview with me, Caesar."

"I confess, I did," says Caesar. "The night before the Quarter Quell…well, who ever thought we'd see you again?" Well, at least someone's seen him again. I'm standing here seeing him for the first time in weeks. This gives me a little hope that maybe I can get Peeta back, after all.

"It wasn't part of my plan, that's for sure," says Peeta with a frown. Well, we all know what his plan was. To get me the hell out of there and to die so as to accomplish that. Well, it look like neither of us have died. That's good, right?

Caesar leans in to him a little. "I think it was clear to all of us what your plean was. To sacrifice yourself in the arena so Katniss and your child could survive." Peeta's face contorts at "child" briefly. He must not have been prepared to hear the exact word.

"That was it. Clear and simple." Peeta's fingers trace the upholstered pattern on the arm of the chair. I'm not sure what he's thinking, but I can tell whatever it is, it pains him to think. "But other people had plans as well."

_Yes, other people had plans_, I think. Has Peeta guessed then, how the rebels used us as pawns? How my rescue was arranged from the beginning? And finally, how our mentor Haymitch Abernathy betrayed us both for a cause he pretended to have no interest in?

In the silence that follows, I notice the lines that have formed between Peeta's eyebrows. He has guessed or he has been told. But to Capitol has not killed him or even punished him. It's too much to hope for. For right now, that exceeds my wildest hope. I drink in his wholeness, the soundness of his body and mind. It runs through me like the morphling they give me in the hospital, dulling the pain of the last weeks.

"Why don't you tell us about that last night in the arena?" suggests Caesar. "Help us sort a few things out."

Peeta nods but takes his time speaking. "That last night…to tell you about that last night…well, first of all, you have to imagine how it felt in that arena. It was like being an insect trapped under a bowl filled with steaming air. And all around you, jungle…green and alive and ticking. The giant clock ticking. That giant clock ticking away your life. Every hour the past two days, sixteen people have died—some of them defending you. At the rate things are going, the last eight will be dead by morning. Save one. The victor. And your plan is that it won't be you."

My body breaks out in a sweat at the memory. My hand slides down the screen and hangs limply at my side. Peeta doesn't need a brush to paint images from the Games. He works just as well in words. Which is why they should have gotten Peeta out of the damn arena. He could really give the Capitol hell. Compared to him, I'm helpless. Utterly helpless because I've never been good in front of the camera and he always has.

"Once you're in the arena, the rest of the world becomes very distant," he continues. "All the people and things you loved or cared about almost cease to exist. The pink sky and the monsters in the jungle and the tributes who want your blood become your final reality, the only one that ever mattered. As bad as it makes you feel, you're going to have to do some killing, because in the arena, you only get one wish. And it's costly."

"It costs you life," say Caesar.

"Oh, no. It costs a lot more than your life. To murder innocent people?" says Peeta. "It costs everything you are." Oh, Peeta…

"_Everything you are,_" repeats Caesar quietly.

A hush has fallen over the room, and I can feel it spreading across Panem. A nation leaning in toward its screens. Because no one has ever talked about what it's really like to be in the arena before. I'm just glad it's Peeta. Everything always sounds so much clearer coming from his mouth.

Peeta goes on. "So you hold on to your wish. And that last night, yes, my wish was to save Katniss. But even without knowing about the rebels, it didn't feel right. Everything was too complicated. I found myself regretting I hadn't run off with her earlier in the day, as she had suggested. But there was no getting out of it at that point." He's right. We'd have been signing out death warrants if we'd abandoned the group.

"You were too caught up in Beetee's plan to electrify the salt lake," says Caesar.

"Too busy playing allies with the others. I should have never let them separate us!" Peeta bursts out. I couldn't agree more, and my heart warms a little at his admission. We'd both hated it. "That's when I lost her." He's right, it's the exact moment we lost each other.

"When you stayed at the lightning tree, and she and Johanna Mason took the coil of wire down to the water," Caesar clarifies.

"I didn't want to!" Peeta flushes in agitation. "But I couldn't argue with Beetee without indicating we were about to break the alliance. When the wire was cut, everything just went insane. I can only remember bits and pieces. Trying to find her. Watching Brutus kill Chaff. Killing Brutus myself. I know she was calling my name. Then the lightning bolt hit the tree, and the force field around the arena…blew out."

"Katniss, blew it out, Peeta," says Caesar. "You've seen the footage." What is Caesar doing? Is he trying to turn Peeta against me? I guess I shouldn't be surprised, but Caesar was probably our biggest fan. He must be saying what the Capitol—or Snow himself—wants him to say.

"She didn't know what she was doing. None of us could follow Beetee's plan. You can see her trying to figure out what to do with that wire," Peeta snaps back. I just want to reach out and hold his hand, to calm him down, to be there for him.

"All right. It just looks suspicious," says Caesar. "As if she was part of the rebel's plan all along."

Peeta's on his feet, leaning in to Caesar's face, hands locked on the arms of his interviews chair. I've never seen him defend me like this. I'm overwhelmed by the unknown emotion that rushes through me. "Really? And was it part of her plan for Johanna to nearly kill her? For the electric shock to paralyze her? To trigger the bombing?" he's yelling now. Oh, Peeta… "She didn't know Caesar. Neither of us knew anything except that we were trying to keep each other alive!"

Caesar places his hand on Peeta's chest in a gesture that's both self-protective and conciliatory. "Okay, Peeta, I believe you."

"Okay." Peeta withdraws from Caesar, pulling back his hands, running them through his hair, messing his carefully styled blond curls. He slumps back in his chair distraught.

Caesar waits a moment, studying Peeta. "What about your mentor, Haymitch Abernathy?"

Peeta's face hardens. "I don't know what Haymitch knew."

"Could he have been part of the conspiracy?" asks Caesar.

"He never mentioned it," says Peeta. And he's right, Haymitch never said anything. As far as we knew he was the least interested person about the rebellion. To know he had more of a hand in it than Gale did is almost traumatizing.

Caesar presses on. "What does your heart tell you?"

"That I shouldn't have trusted him," says Peeta. "That's all."

I haven't seen Haymitch since I attacked him on the hovercraft. I know its been hard for him, District 13's strict rules on alcohol consumption has forced him to quit cold turkey and it hasn't been easy on him. But I'm reminded that I have lost all my sympathy for Haymitch. And I hope he's watching this so he can see that Peeta has cast him of as well.

Caesar pats Peeta's shoulder. "We can stop now if you want."

"Was there more to discuss?" says Peeta wryly.

"I was going to ask your thoughts on the war, but if you're too upset…" begins Caesar.

"Oh, I'm not too upset to answer that." Peeta takes a deep breath and then looks at the camera. "I want everyone watching—whether you're on the Capitol or the rebel side—to stop for just a moment and think about what this war could me. For human beings. We almost went extinct fighting one another before. Now our numbers are even fewer. Our conditions are more tenuous. Is it really what we want to do? Kill ourselves off completely? In the hope that—what? Some decent species will inherit the smoking remains of the earth?" Snow. I can hear his voice in everything Peeta is saying. Whatever Peeta really thinks is being suppressed by this. By what Snow wants him to say.

"I don't really…I'm not sure I'm following…" says Caesar.

"We can't fight one another, Caesar," Peeta explains. "There won't be enough of us to keep going. If everybody doesn't lay down their weapons and I mean as in very soon – it's all over, anyway."

"So…you're calling for a cease-fire?" Caesar asks.

"Yes. I'm calling for a cease-fire," says Peeta tiredly. "Now why don't we ask the guarts to take me back to my quarters so I can build another hundred card houses?" Quarters? Card houses? What?

Caesar turns to the camera. "All right. I think that wraps it up. So back to our regularly scheduled programming."

Music plays them out, and then there's a woman reading about shortages or something I don't even care about. I just watch the screen not taking any of it in. I know everyone will be waiting for my reaction. But I can't even process what I'm thinking—the joy of seeing Peeta alive and unharmed, his defense of my innocence in collaborating with the rebels, and his undeniable complicity with the Capitol now that he's called for a cease-fire. Oh, he made it sound as if he were condemning both sides in the war. But at this point, with only minor victories for the rebels, a cease-fire could only result in a return to our previous state. Or worse.

Behind me I can hear the accusations against Peeta building. The words, _traitor, liar, _and _ememy._ Bounce off the walls. Since I can neither join in the rebels' outrage or counter it, I decide the best thing to do is clear out. As I reach the doo, Coin's voice rises above the rest. "You have not been dismissed, Solider Everdeen." Great Everdeen. That means even she is mad at Peeta, because until this moment they used my other last name. Mellark. Apparently the days of associating, me with Peeta, are over. I care, but I don't have the energy to question her.

One of Coin's men tries to stop me by placing his hand on my shoulder, and while most people wouldn't take that as a sign of aggression, having been in the Games I consider anything that's not an already known touch as aggressive. I react defensively and I twist away from his arm. There's a clattering sound behind me and then I'm running. I don't know what happened or what's going on, but the one thing I do know propels me to one of my hiding places. I wind up in the supply closet curled up against a crate of chalk.

"You're alive," I whisper, pressing my palms against my cheeks, feeling the smile that's so wide it must look like a grimace. Peeta's alive. And a traitor. But at the moment, I don't care. Now what he says, or what he says it doe, only that he is still capable of speech. I take my hands off my face and start twisting my rings around my finger. One of the doctors tried to take them from me and I hit him so hard they decided never to try that again. Which I'm glad about. It's the only thing I have that was given to me by Peeta, that's my own—well, okay, not the _only _thing—but that I can hold right now, it's the only thing. My engagement ring, the simple stone on the top surrounded by little stones, it was more flashy than I'd originally wanted, but when Peeta gave it to me, I didn't care. All I knew was that it came from him, not the Capitol. He picked the wedding bands too. I slip the wedding band off my finger and read the inscription, _the boy with the bead,_ over and over and over again.

After a few minutes Gale finds me and sits on the floor beside me. He explained that he hit Boggs and his communicuff was taken from him because of that. I guess I feel kind of bad for that, but nothing can erase the joy that I feel at having seen Peeta alive and well…and defending me. We started talking about District 13 and their crazy elaborate plan for the rebellion.

"Still, it took them long enough to show up," I say.

"It wasn't simple. They had to build up a rebel base in the Capitol, get some sort of underground organized in the districts," he says. "Then they needed someone to set the whole thing in motion. They needed you."

"They needed Peeta, too," I say slamming the ring back onto my finger. "But they seem to have forgotten that."

Gale's expression darkens. "Peeta might have done a lot of damage tonight. Most of the rebels will dismiss what he said immediately, of course. But there are districts where the resistance is shakier. The cease-fire's clearly President Snow's idea. But it seems so reasonable coming out of Peeta's mouth."

I'm afraid of Gale's answer, but I ask anyway. "Why do you think he said it?"

"He might have been tortured. Or persuaded. My guess is he made some kind of deal to protect you. He'd put forth the idea of the cease-fire if Snow let him present you as a confused pregnant girl who had no idea what was going on when taken prisoner by the rebels. This way, if the districts lost, there's still a chance of leniency for you. If you play it right." I must still look perplexed because Gale delivers the next line very slowly. "Katniss…he's trying to keep you alive."

_To keep me alive? _ And then I understood. The Games are still on. We have left the arena, but since Peeta and I weren't killed, his last wish to preserve my life still remains. But so does mine. I will get Peeta back somehow, I just don't know how to right now.

I spring up as fast as someone pregnant can manage, upsetting a box of a hundred pencils, sending them scattering around the floor.

"What is it?" Gale asks.

"There can't be a cease-fire." I lean down, fumbling as I shove the sticks of dark gray graphite back into the box. "We can't go back."

"I know." Gale sweeps a handful of pencils and taps them on the floor into perfect alignment.

"Whatever reason Peeta had for saying those things, he's wrong." The stupid sticks won't go in the box and I snap several in my frustration.

"I know. Give it here. You're breaking them to bits." He pulls the box from my hands and refills it with swift, concise motions.

"He doesn't know what they did to Twelve. If he could've seen what was on the ground—" I start.

"Katniss, I'm not arguing. If I could hit a button that would kill every living soul working for the Capitol, I would do it. Without hesitation." He slides the last pencil into the box and flips the lid closed. "The question is, what are you going to do?"

It turns out the question that's been eating away at me has only ever had one possible answer. But it took Peeta's ploy for me to recognize it.

_What am I going to do?_

I take a deep breath. My arms rise slightly—as if recalling the black-and-white wings Cinna gave me—then come to rest at my sides.

"I'm going to be the Mockingjay."


	14. Chapter 14

_**Personal note: sorry for the mix-up with the last chapter. I accidentally added 12 twice. It however has been corrected so if you read "13" and noticed it was the same as 12, please go back and read that before**_** continuing.**

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After tossing and turning for hours I'm resolved of the fact that I won't be sleeping tonight. Usually I'm much more worn out by the time I get into bed, but I suppose the excitement of seeing Peeta alive and well, and looking unharmed has put sleep completely out of my mind. I realize I'm rubbing my belly. I'm still not quite used to it not being flat anymore, but I suppose I need to get used to it since it probably won't change much, well besides getting bigger. I stop rubbing my belly and just place my arms over my chest and remove my rings to examine them in the dim lighting. They are a constant reminder of Peeta, they remind me that I chose him. That he's mine, no matter what the Capitol does or doesn't do to him. For some reason, they are soothing.

"Katniss?" Prim whispers. I drop my rings in my face, startled. Before looking at her I pick them back up and put them on. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just a bad dream. Go back to sleep." It's automatic. Shutting Prim and my mother out of things to shield them.

Careful not to rouse my mother, Prim eases herself from the bed, scoops up Buttercup, and sits beside me. She grabs my left hand so I'm forced to stop twisting my rings around. "You're cold." Taking a spare blanket from the foot of the bed, she wraps it around all three of us, enveloping me in her warmth and Buttercup's furry heat as well. "You could tell me, you know. I'm good at keeping secrets. Even from Mother."

Prim has grown up so much. She's not longer that little frightened duckling that's name was called in the reaping. She's been forced to grow up because of circumstances.

"Tomorrow morning, I'm going to agree to be the Mockingjay," I tell her.

"Because you want to or because you feel forced into it?" she asks.

I laugh a little. "Both, I guess. No, I want to. I have to, if it will help the rebels defeat Snow. It's just…Peeta. I'm afraid if we do win, the rebels will execute him as a traitor." I hadn't realized how real this fear was until I said it. For the first time the thought enters my head, I had to live without my father, but I don't want my child to have to live without it's if I can help it.

Prim thinks this over. "Katniss, I don't think you understand how important you are to the cause. Important people usually get what they want. If you want to keep Peeta safe from the rebels, you can."

I guess I'm important. They went to a lot of trouble to rescue me. They took me to 12. "You mean…I could demand they give Peeta immunity? And they'd have to agree to it?"

"I think you could demand almost anything and they'd have to agree to it." Prim wrinkles her brow. "Only how do you know they'll keep their word?"

I remember all the lies Haymitch told Peeta and me to get us to do what he wanted. What's to keep the rebels from reneging on the deal? A verbal promise behind closed doors, even a statement written on paper—these could easily evaporate after the war. Their existence or validity denied. Any witnesses in Command will be worthless. In fact, they'd probably be the ones writing out Peeta's death warrant. I'll need a much larger pool of witnesses. I'll need everyone I can get.

"It will have to be public," I say. Buttercup gives a flick of his tail that I take as agreement. "I'll make Coin announce it in front of the entire population of Thirteen."

Prim smiles. "Oh, that's good. It's not a guarantee, but it will be much harder for them to back out of their promise."

"I feel the kind of relief that follows an actual solution. "I should wake you up more often, little duck."

"I wish you would," says Prim. She gives me a kiss. "Try and sleep now, all right?" And I do. Talking to Prim felt better than I could have ever imagined. To know that she is fully on my side means the world to me.

In the morning, at breakfast Gale and I talk about how much more controlling Thirteen is and the I talk about the plan with Gale, well the in front of everyone announcement of my requests in order to be the Mockingjay. He points out about hunting, kind of surprised he suggested it, but yes I definitely need to go hunting. And who knows how long I'll actually be able to do it. After some point they wouldn't dare let me.

By the time we get to Command, Coin, Plutarch, and all their people have already assembled. The sight of Gale raises some eyebrows, but no one throws him out. My mental notes have become too jumbled, so I ask for a piece of paper and a pencil right off. My apparent interest is in the procceedings—the first I've shown since I've been here—takes them by surprise. Several looks are exchanged. Probably they had come extra-special lecture planned for me. But instead, Coin personally hands me the supplies, and everyone waits in silence while I sit at the table and scrawl out my list. _Buttercup. Hunting. Peeta's immunity. Announcement in public._

That is it. Probably my only chance to bargain. _Think. What else do you want?_ I feel him, standing at my shoulder. _Gale,_ I add to the list. I don't think I can do this without him. And them a pang of guilt hits me. _You're not replacing Peeta. Calm down. Don't overreact. Breathe, Katniss, breathe._ The headache's coming and my thoughts begin to tangle. I shut my eyes and start to recite silently.

_My name is Katniss Everdeen Mellark. I am seventeen years old. I am pregnant. Peeta Mellark is my husband. My home is District 12. I was in the Hunger Games. I escaped. The Capitol hates me. Peeta was taken prisoner. He is alive. He is a traitor, but alive. I have to keep him alive…_

The list. It still seems too small. I should try to think bigger, beyond our current situation where I am of the utmost importance, to the future where I may be worth nothing. Shouldn't I be asking for more? For my family? For the remainder of my people? My skin itches with the ashes of the dead. I feel the sickening impact of the skull against my show. The scent of blood and roses stings my nose.

The pencil moves across the page on it's own. I open my eyes and see the wobbly letters. _I KILL SNOW._ If he's captured, I want the privilege.

Plutarch gives a discreet cough. "About done there?" I glance up and notice the clock. I've been sitting here for twenty minutes. Finnick isn't the only one with attention problems.

"Yeah," I say. My voice sounds hoarse, so I clear my throat. "Yeah, so this is the deal. I'll be your Mockingjay."

I wait so they can make their sounds of relief, congratulate, slap one another on the back. Coin stays as impassive as ever, watching me, unimpressed. I'm certain she can here the resonant _but_ in her head right now that no one else seems to.

"But I have some conditions." I smooth out the list and begin. "My family gets to keep our cat." My tiniest request sets off an argument. The Capitol rebels see this as a nonissue—of course, I can keep me pet—while those from 13 spell out what extreme difficulties this presents. Finally it's worked out that we'll be moved to the top level, which has the luxury of an eight-inch window aboveground. Buttercup may come and go to do his business. He will be expected to feed himself. If he misses curfew he will be locked out. If he causes any security problems, he'll be shot immediately.

That sounds okay. Not so different from how he's been living since we left. Except for the shooting par. If he looks too thin, I can slip him a few entrils, provided my next request is allowed.

"I want to hunt. With Gale. Out in the woods," I say. This gives everyone pause.

"We won't go far. We'll use our own bows. You can have the meat for the kitchen," adds Gale.

I hurry up before they can say no or anything about it being too risky in my "condition." "It's just…I can't breathe shut up in here like a…I would get better, faster if…I could hunt."

Plutarch begins to explain drawbacks here—the dangers, the extra security, the risk of injury, my pregnancy—but Coin cuts him off. "No. Let them. Give them two hours a day, deducted from their training time. A quarter-mile radius. With communication units and tracker anklets. What's next?"

I skim my list. "Gale. I'll need him with me to do this."

"With you how? Off camera? By your side at all times? Do you want him presented as your new lover?" Coin asks.

She hasn't said this with any particular malice—quite the contrary, her words are matter-of-fact. But my mouth still drops open in shock. "What?"

"I think we should continue the current romance. A quick defecation from Peeta could cause the audience to lose sympathy for her," says Plutarch. "Especially since they think she's pregnant with his child."

"I am pregnant with his child," I stare at Plutarch astonished with the way he said that.

"Agreed. So, on-scree, Gale can simply be portrayed as a fellow rebel. Is that all right?" say Coin. I just stare at her. My mind still struggling to catch up. She repeats herself impatiently. "For Gale. Will that be sufficient?"

"We can always work him in as your cousin," says Fulvia.

"We're not cousin," Gale and I say together.

"Right, but we should probably keep that up for appearances' sake on camera," says Plutarch. "Off camera, he's all yours. Anything else?"

I rattled by the turn in the conversation. The implications that I could so readily dispose of Peeta, that I'm in love with Gale, that this whole thing has been an act. My cheeks begin to burn. The very notion that I'm devoting any thought to who I presented as my love, given the current circumstances, is demeaning. I let my anger propel me into my greatest demand. "When the war is over, if we've won, Peeta will be pardoned."

Dead silence. I feel Gale's body tense. I guess I should have told him before, but I wasn't sure how he's respond. Not when it involved Peeta. Though he shouldn't be surprised. Peeta and I are married, I'm having his baby. Why is this such a shock to everyone? I don't understand and that makes me unbelievably mad…and another sensation is creeping in on me…the need to cry.

"No form of punishment will be inflicted," I continue. A new thought occurs to me. "The same goes for the other captured tributes, Johanna and Enobaria." Frankly, I don't care about Enobaria, the vicious District 2 tribute. In fact, I dislike her, but it seems wrong to leave her out.

"No," says Coin flatly. I was anticipating this. If saving Peeta's life was this easy I'd have already done it time and time again, but it's not, and Coin is firm on her opinion. I'm sure not even crying now would change that.

"Yes," I shoot back. "It's not their fault you abandoned them in the arena. Who knows what the Capitol's doing to them?" The thought scares me. I don't know what they Capitol is doing to them—to Peeta—and I'm helpless against whatever it is. If I knew just knew for a fact they weren't hurting him I would be fine…but I don't know and it's killing me. My throat and chest start to tighten.

"They'll be tried with other war criminals and treated as the tribunal sees fit," she says.

"They'll be granted immunity!" I stand up temporarily having an issue with vertigo, but then my voice is full and resonant. "You will personally pledge this in front of the population of District Thirteen and the remainder of Twelve. Soon. Today. It will be recorded for future generations. You will hold yourself and your government responsible for their safety, or you'll find yourself another Mockingjay!"

My words hang in the air for a long moment.

"That's her!" I hear Fulvia hiss to Plutarch. "Right there. With the costume, gunfire in the background, just a hint of smoke."

Gunfire? What does that mean?

"Yes, that's what we want," says Plutarch under his breath.

I want to glare at them, but I feel it would be a mistake to turn my attention from Coin. I can see her tallying the cost of my ultimatum, weighing it against my possible worth.

"What do you say, President?" says Plutarch. "You could issue and official pardon, given the circumstances. The boy…he's not even of age." Ooh! Yes, that's a good one…he's not. Neither of us are. The only one that is, is Gale and he's not even part of the problem.

"All right," Coin says finally. "But you'd better perform."

"I'll perform when you've made the announcement," I say. Oh Peeta. I can still protect you. You'll be okay Peeta, you just need to come back to me. Come back to me, oh please, come back to me. _Katniss!_ I yell at myself because I am very close to crying, and not necessarily happy tears.

"Call a national security assembly during Reflection today," she orders. "I'll make the announcement then. Is there anything else left on your list, Katniss?"

My paper's crumpled into a ball in my right fist. I flatten the sheet against the table and read the rickety letters. "Just one more thing. I kill Snow."

For the first time ever, I see the hint of a smile on the president's lips. "When the time comes, I'll flip you for it."

Between the end of the meeting and the announcement I'm taken and shown my costume that Cinna made me. It's wonderful. Of course it's wonderful. Then Plutarch says he has something for me. I'm appalled at the sight of my prep team when we find them. After they have been taken care of in the hospital and my mother releases them they get right to work. Octavia starts crying over the fact that I'm pregnant and Peeta isn't here. Oh god I hate it when she cries. I'm having a hard enough time without Peeta being here, she's certainly not going to help matters.

Later Gale and I go hunting where he questions me about my prep team and says some things I'd like to block out. I don't know what he's so vehement against the Capitol, it's not like he's been in the arena twice. I have much more cause to hate the Capitol than he does and yet here we are, me standing up for my prep team. How did that happen? After that, I have a hard time talking to him. It's not him, its just the way that he hates the Capitol.

Just before the announcement I run into Finnick. Realizing I'd forgotten to put Annie on my list I rush over and tell Coin to add her. She does and then makes her speech, she allows for moments of unrest as there are protests, especially when it comes to Peeta's immunity. I should have seen this coming, but it still hits me pretty hard. The next thing she says is news to me. "But in return for this unprecedented request, Solider Everdeen has promised to devote herself to our cause. It follows that any deviance from her mission, in either motive or deed, will be viewed as a break in this agreement. The immunity would be terminated and the fate of the four victors determined by the law of District Thirteen. As would her own. Thank you."

In other words, I step out of line and we're all dead.

Sorry, Peeta. We're not out of the woods yet.

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_**Please leave your thoughts guys! I'm turning out these chapters like crazy, so opinions would be greatly appreciated! Thank you to those of you who have reviewed. It means the world to me.**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**This is a very long chapter...it's getting harder and harder for me to figure out where to make breaks, so anyways, without further ado, chapter fifteen...**_

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The next few days—weeks?—go by in a blur. I get a head to toe makeover. Gale and I argue, because I put Coin in a bad position, blah blah blah. Beetee shows me the specially designed bow. It's pretty cool actually, it responds to my voice. And he tells Gale and I about the special arrows. One version erupts in fire, and the other is explosive. I've never needed one like this before.

Everyone is constantly worrying over me, and it's driving me crazy. I'm pregnant, that's all, just pregnant. Still Katniss. Still the girl on fire gone dark side…well agreed to work with the rebels. There's a lot going on, that's for sure. I try in a studio do say the lines I'm given, but it's just not me, and I'm often tired out. Pregnancy, why does no one ever explain anything to me? Baby is healthy, I'll find out in a couple weeks what it is…something I almost feel guilty about learning without Peeta here. There's lot of things like that lately. I find myself thinking about him all the time. The littlest things make me think about him. I have to shake myself sometimes in order to focus on matters at hand. It can be difficult, but everyone seems to hate Peeta. I know Gale resents him, he's just good enough not to tell me that.

While filming one day, it took the whole of the day for Plutarch to convince the others of my limitations. That I can't pull it off. I can't stand in a television studio wearing a costume and makeup in a cloud of fake smoke and rally the districts to victory. It's amazing, really, how long I have survived the cameras. The credit for that, of course, goes to Peeta. Alone, I can't be the Mockingjay.

After watching several of the disastrous takes, everyone seems to give up on me, on the project, on the idea of the Mockingjay.

"All right," Haymitch says when it's over. "Would anyone like to argue that this is of use to us in winning the war?" No one does. "That saves time. So, let's all be quiet for a minute. I want everyone to think of one incident where Katniss Everdeen genuinely moved you. Not where you were jealous of her hairstyle, or her dress went up in flames or she made a halfway decent shot with an arrow. Not where Peeta was making you like her. I want to hear one moment where she made you feel something real."

Quiet stretches out and I'm beginning to think it will never end, when Leevy speaks up. "When she volunteered to take Prim's place at the reaping. Because I'm sure she thought she was going to die."

"Good. Excellent example," says Haymitch. He takes a purple marker and writes on a notepad. "Volunteered for sister at reaping." Haymitch looks around the table. "Somebody else."

I'm surprised that the next speaker is Boggs, who I think of as a muscular robot that does Coin's bidding. "When she sang the song. While the little girl died." Somewhere in my head an image surfaces of Boggs with a young boy perched up on his hip. In the dining hall, I think. Maybe he's not a robot after all.

"Who didn't get choked up at that, right?" says Haymitch, writing it down.

"I cried when she drugged Peeta so she could go get him medicine and when she kissed him good-bye!" blurts out Octavia. Then she covers her mouth, like she's sure this was a bad mistake.

"But Haymitch only nods. "Oh, yeah. Drugs Peeta to save his life. Very nice."

The moments begin to come thick and fast and in no particular order. When I took Rue on as an ally. Extended my hand to Chaff on interview night. Tried to carry Mags. And again and again when I held out those berries that meant different things to different people. Love for Peeta. Refusal to give in under impossible odds. Defiance of the Capitol's inhumanity.

Haymitch holds up the notepad. "So, the question is, what do all of these have in common?"

"They were Katniss's," says Gale quietly. "No one told her what to do or say."

"Unscripted, yes!" says Beetee. He reaches over and pats my hand. "So we should just leave you alone, right?"

People laugh. I even smile a little."

"Well, that's all very nice but not very helpful," says Fulvia peevishly. "Unfortunately, her opportunities for being wonderful are rather limited here in Thirteen. So unless you're suggesting we toss her into the middle of combat —"

"That's exactly what I'm suggesting," says Haymitch. "Put her out in the field and just keep the cameras rolling."

"But people think she's pregnant," Gale points out.

"Because she is pregnant," I say irritated. "Because I am pregnant. Does this not register with anyone? Is everyone just pretending that this isn't real? I'm sick of it. Quit saying 'people think she's pregnant,' 'they think she's pregnant with his child' because I am!" I sigh, loudly.

"The idea of sending me into combat is controversial. But Haymitch has a pretty tight case. If I perform well only in real-life circumstances, then into them I should go. "Every time we coach her or give her lines, the best we can hope for is okay. It has to come from her. That's what people are responding to."

"Even if we're careful, we can't guarantee her safety," says Boggs. "She'll be a target for every —"

"I want to go," I break in. "I'm no help to the rebels here."

"And if you're killed?" asks Coin.

I hadn't thought about that. It certainly makes things more complicated now than ever.

"We can take her to the hospitals," Haymitch suggest. "Show her interacting with the patients. She'd still be getting out there, but she wouldn't be putting herself and the baby at risk…well at least not as much risk."

Everyone agrees and then begins to leave the room, but Haymitch stays. I knew this would happen eventually. Gale offers to stay but both Haymitch and I tell him to go. I'm not really worried about Haymitch doing something to me. He can hurt me just as easily with words, "_You could live a hundred lifetimes and never deserve him, you know._" That had hurt, and I've never forgotten it.

Haymitch takes the seat across from me. "We're going to have to work together again. So, go ahead. Just say it."

I think of the snarling, cruel exchange back on the hover-craft. The bitterness that followed. But all I say is "I can't believe you didn't rescue Peeta."

"I know," he replies.

There's a sense of incompleteness. And not because he hasn't apologized. But because we were a team. We had a deal to keep Peeta safe. A drunken, unrealistic deal made in the dark of night, but a deal just the same. And in my heart of hearts, I know we both failed.

"Now you say it," I tell him.

"I can't believe you let him out of your sight that night," says Haymitch.

I nod. That's it. "I play it over and over in my head. What I could have done to keep him by my side without breaking the alliance. But nothing comes to me."

"You didn't have a choice. And even if I could've made Plutarch stay and rescue him that night, the whole hovercraft would've gone down. We barely got out as it was." I finally meet Haymitch's eyes. Seam eyes. Gray and deep and ringed with the circles of sleepless nights. "He's not dead yet, Katniss."

"We're still in the game." I try to say this with optimism, but my voice cracks.

"Still in. And I'm still your mentor." Haymitch points his marker at me. "When you're on the ground, remember I'm airborne. I'll have the better view, so do what I tell you."

"We'll see," I answer.

Not too far in the future I board a hovercraft with Boggs. We're going to visit the hospital in District 8. I learn on the trip that a lot of the Peacekeepers come from District 2. I'd thought they all came from the Capitol. I suppose I was wrong.

When we land we meet a Commander by the name of Paylor. She doesn't look old enough to be a Commander but her attitudes and efforts prove otherwise. She tells me how happy she is to know that I'm still alive. That's nice…and then not, because that means a lot of people think I'm dead. Does Peeta think I'm dead? Did they tell Peeta I was dead? My heart races and my head hurts. They wouldn't do that to him, would they? Yes. Yes they most certainly would.

As we enter the warehouse—converted into a hospital—the sight is repugnant and the smell is overpowers, but I'm chalking that up to hormones. My heart sinks at the sight. Is this what it looked like in 12 between bombs? The thought nearly stops me.

"Katniss?" a voice croaks out from my left, breaking apart from the general din. "Katniss?" A hand reaches for me out of the haze. I cling to it for support. Attached to the hand is a young woman with an injured leg. Blood has seeped through the heavy bandages, which are crawling with flies. Her face reflects her pain, but something else, too, something that seems completely incongruous with her situation. "Is it really you?"

"Yeah, it's me," I get out.

Joy. That's the expression on her face. At the sound of my voice, it brightens, erases the suffering momentarily.

"You're alive! We didn't know. People said you were, but we didn't know!" she says excitedly.

"I got pretty banged up. But I got better," I say. "Just like you will."

"I've got to tell my brother!" The woman struggles to sit up and calls to someone a few beds down. "Eddy! Eddy! She's here! It's Katniss Everdeen!"

A boy, probably about twelve years old, turns to us. Bandages obscure half of his face. The side of his mouth I can see opens as if to utter an exclamation. I go to him, push his damp brown curls back from his forehead. Murmur a greeting. He can't speak, but his one good eye fixes on me with such intensity, as if he's trying to memorize every detail of my face.

I hear my name rippling through the hot air, spreading out into the hospital. "Katniss! Katniss Everdeen!" The sounds of pain and grief begin to recede, to be replaced by "words of anticipation. From all sides, voices beckon me. I begin to move, clasping the hands extended to me, touching the sound parts of those unable to move their limbs, saying hello, how are you, good to meet you. Nothing of importance, no amazing words of inspiration. But it doesn't matter. Boggs is right. It's the sight of me, alive, that is the inspiration.

Hungry fingers devour me, wanting to feel my flesh. As a stricken man clutches my face between his hands, I send a silent thank-you to Dalton for suggesting I wash off the makeup. How ridiculous, how perverse I would feel presenting that painted Capitol mask to these people. The damage, the fatigue, the imperfections. That's how they recognize me, why I belong to them.

Despite his controversial interview with Caesar, many ask about Peeta, assure me that they know he was speaking under duress. And I know that makes her feel better, but I also know Peeta. He wouldn't say anything he didn't believe, unless he was forced to do it. And I'm fairly certain he was.

I begin to fully understand the lengths to which people have gone to protect me. What I mean to the rebels. My ongoing struggle against the Capitol, which has so often felt like a solitary journey, has not been undertaken alone. I have had thousands upon thousands of people from the districts at my side. I was their Mockingjay long before I accepted the role.

A new sensation begins to germinate inside me. But it takes until I am standing on a table, waving my final good-byes to the hoarse chanting of my name, to define it. Power. I have a kind of power I never knew I possessed. Snow knew it, as soon as I held out those berries. Plutarch knew when he rescued me from the arena. And Coin knows now. So much so that she must publicly remind her people that I am not in control.

When we're outside again, I lean against the warehouse, catching my breath, accepting the canteen of water from Boggs. "You did great," he says.

Well, I didn't faint or throw up or run out screaming. Mostly, I just rode the wave of emotion rolling through the place.

"We got some nice stuff in there," says Cressida. I look at the insect cameramen, perspiration pouring from under their equipment. Messalla scribbling notes. I had forgotten they were even filming me.

"I didn't do much, really," I say.

"You have to give yourself some credit for what you've done in the past," says Boggs.

What I've done in the past? I think of the trail of destruction in my wake — my knees weaken and I slide down to a sitting position. "That's a mixed bag."

"Well, you're not perfect by a long shot. But times being what they are, you'll have to do," says Boggs.

"Gale squats down beside me, shaking his head. "I can't believe you let all those people touch you. I kept expecting you to make a break for the door."

"Shut up," I say with a laugh.

"Your mother's going to be very proud when she sees the footage," he says.

"My mother won't even notice me. She'll be too appalled by the conditions in there." I turn to Boggs and ask, "Is it like this in every district?"

"Yes. Most are under attack. We're trying to get in aid wherever we can, but it's not enough." He stops a minute, distracted by something in his earpiece. I realize I haven't heard Haymitch's voice once, and fiddle with mine, wondering if it's broken. "We're to get to the airstrip. Immediately," Boggs says, lifting me to my feet with one hand. "There's a problem.

"What kind of problem?" asks Gale.

"Incoming bombers," says Boggs. He reaches behind my neck and yanks Cinna's helmet up onto my head. "Let's move!"

Unsure of what's going on, I take off running along the front of the warehouse, heading for the alley that leads to the airstrip. But I don't sense any immediate threat. The sky's an empty, cloudless blue. The street's clear except for the people hauling the wounded to the hospital. There's no enemy, no alarm. Then the sirens begin to wail. Within seconds, a low-flying V-shaped formation of Capitol hoverplanes appears above us, and the bombs begin to fall. I'm blown off my feet, into the front wall of the warehouse. There's a searing pain just above the back of my right knee. Something has struck my back as well, but doesn't seem to have penetrated my vest. I try to get up, but Boggs pushes me back down, shielding my body with his own. The ground ripples under me as bomb after bomb drops from the planes and detonates.

It's a horrifying sensation being pinned against the wall as the bombs rain down. What was that expression my father used for easy kills? Like shooting fish in a barrel. We are the fish, the street the barrel.

"Katniss!" I'm startled by Haymitch's voice in my ear.

"What? Yes, what? I'm here!" I answer.

"Listen to me. We can't land during the bombing, but it's imperative you're not spotted," he says.

"So they don't know I'm here?" I assumed, as usual, it was my presence that brought on punishment.

"Intelligence thinks no. That this raid was already scheduled," says Haymitch.

Now Plutarch's voice comes up, calm but forceful. The voice of a Head Gamemaker used to calling the shots under pressure. "There's a light blue warehouse three down from you. It has a bunker in the far north corner. Can you get there?"

"We'll do our best," says Boggs. Plutarch must be in everyone's ear, because my bodyguards and crew are getting up. My eye instinctively searches for Gale and sees he's on his feet, apparently unharmed.

"You've got maybe forty-five seconds to the next wave," says Plutarch.

We have just reached another alley, need only to cross it to arrive at the door, when the next wave of bombs begins. I instinctively dive into the alley and roll toward the blue wall. This time it's Gale who throws himself over me to provide one more layer of protection from the bombing. It seems to go on longer this time, but we are farther away.

I shift onto my side and find myself looking directly into Gale's eyes. For an instant the world recedes and there is just his flushed face, his pulse visible at his temple, his lips slightly parted as he tries to catch his breath.

"You all right?" he asks, his words nearly drowned out by an explosion.

"Yeah. I don't think they've seen me," I answer. "I mean, they're not following us."

"No, they've targeted something else," says Gale.

"I know, but there's nothing back there but —" The realization hits us at the same time.

"The hospital." Instantly, Gale's up and shouting to the others. "They're targeting the hospital!"

"Not your problem," says Plutarch firmly. "Get to the bunker."

"But there's nothing there but the wounded!" I say.

"Katniss." I hear the warning note in Haymitch's voice and know what's coming. "Don't you even think about — !" I yank the earpiece free and let it hang from its wire.

Gale and I get on a ladder and climb to the roof. I can hear Peeta's voice in my head. _Katniss what are you doing! Katniss get off the roof! We'll take care of this! You have more important things to worry about! _And on and on he goes, it's like a broken record in my head. I have to shove it out and Gale and I take positions by Paylor. We successfully take down all of the incoming hovercrafts. I'd forgotten just how good of a shot Gale is. And I'm surprised by how well I manage to be, being that I'm still pregnant and all. Yeah, Peeta would definitely be having a fit right now. Again I have to push his voice out of my head.

When we're back on the ground Cressida has her camera team set up. They'd managed to get some shots of us on the roof too. Though apparently they did a good job at hiding my belly. As we're not sure what message that would send to the districts.

"Katniss," she says, "President Snow just had them air the bombing live. Then he made an appearance to say that this was his way of sending a message to the rebels. What about you? Would you like to tell the rebels anything?"

"Yes," I whisper. The red blinking light on one of the cameras catches my eye. I know I'm being recorded. "Yes," I say more forcefully. Everyone is drawing away from me — Gale, Cressida, the insects — giving me the stage. But I stay focused on the red light. "I want to tell the rebels that I am alive. That I'm right here in District Eight, where the Capitol has just bombed a hospital full of unarmed men, women, and children. There will be no survivors." The shock I've been feeling begins to give way to fury. "I want to tell people that if you think for one second the Capitol will treat us fairly if there's a cease-fire, you're deluding yourself. Because you know who they are and what they do." My hands go out automatically, as if to indicate the whole horror around me. "This is what they do! And we must fight back!"

"I'm moving in toward the camera now, carried forward by my rage. "President Snow says he's sending us a message? Well, I have one for him. You can torture us and bomb us and burn our districts to the ground, but do you see that?" One of the cameras follows as I point to the planes burning on the roof of the warehouse across from us. The Capitol seal on a wing glows clearly through the flames. "Fire is catching!" I am shouting now, determined that he will not miss a word. "And if we burn, you burn with us!"

My last words hang in the air. I feel suspended in time. Held aloft in a cloud of heat that generates not from my surroundings, but from my own being.

"Cut!" Cressida's voice snaps me back to reality, extinguishes me. She gives me a nod of approval. "That's a wrap."

The propos are shown and the editing team did a great job. I got a bit of hell from Haymitch about the earpiece. He threatened me with worse options and I made a very conscious promise to leave them in my ear from now on. Having Haymitch in my ear all the time, was not very appealing, and definitely not wanted.

I'm going on fourteen weeks now. The doctors scolded me pretty bad for what I did in eight, but they also know that I'll still do whatever I want to do, but they have strongly cautioned me to be more careful or they'll put me on mandatory best rest that doesn't sound good, but as I wait in the hospital for some final test results, Finnick brings his tray to my bed so we can watch the newest propo together on television. He was assigned quarters on my old floor, but he has so many mental relapses, he still basically lives in the hospital. The rebels air the "Because you know who they are and what they do" propo that Messalla edited. The footage is intercut with short studio clips of Gale, Boggs, and Cressida describing the incident. It's hard to watch my reception in the hospital in 8 since I know what's coming. When the bombs rain down on the roof, I bury my face in my pillow, looking up again at a brief clip of me at the end, after all the victims are dead.

At least Finnick doesn't applaud or act all happy when it's done. He just says, "People should know that happened. And now they do."

"Let's turn it off, Finnick, before they run it again," I urge him. But as Finnick's hand moves toward the remote control, I cry, "Wait!" The Capitol is introducing a special segment and something about it looks familiar. Yes, it's Caesar Flickerman. And I can guess who his guest will be.

Peeta's physical transformation shocks me. The healthy, clear-eyed boy I saw a few days ago has lost at least fifteen pounds and developed a nervous tremor in his hands. They've still got him groomed. But underneath the paint that cannot cover the bags under his eyes, and the fine clothes that cannot conceal the pain he feels when he moves, is a person badly damaged

"My mind reels, trying to make sense of it. I just saw him! Four — no, five — I think it was five days ago. How has he deteriorated so rapidly? What could they possibly have done to him in such a short time? Then it hits me. I replay in my mind as much as I can of his first interview with Caesar, searching for anything that would place it in time. There is nothing. They could have taped that interview a day or two after I blew up the arena, then done whatever they wanted to do to him ever since. "Oh, Peeta . . ." I whisper.

Caesar and Peeta have a few empty exchanges before Caesar asks him about rumors that I'm taping propos for the districts. "They're using her, obviously," says Peeta. "To whip up the rebels. I doubt she even really knows what's going on in the war. What's at stake."

"Is there anything you'd like to tell her?" asks Caesar.

"There is," says Peeta. He looks directly into the camera, right into my eyes. "Don't be a fool, Katniss. Think for yourself. They've turned you into a weapon that could be instrumental in the destruction of humanity. If you've got any real influence, use it to put the brakes on this thing. Use it to stop the war before it's too late. Ask yourself, do you really trust the people you're working with? Do you really know what's going on? And if you don't . . . find out."

Black screen. Seal of Panem. Show over.

Finnick presses the button on the remote that kills the power. In a minute, people will be here to do damage control on Peeta's condition and the words that came out of his mouth. I will need to repudiate them. But the truth is, I don't trust the rebels or Plutarch or Coin. I'm not confident that they tell me the truth. I won't be able to conceal this. Footsteps are approaching.

Finnick grips me hard by the arms. "We didn't see it."

"What?" I ask.

"We didn't see Peeta. Only the propo on Eight. Then we turned the set off because the images upset you. Got it?" he asks. I nod. "Finish your dinner." I pull myself together enough so that when Plutarch and Fulvia enter, I have a mouthful of bread and cabbage. Finnick is talking about how well Gale came across on camera. We congratulate them on the propo. Make it clear it was so powerful, we tuned out right afterward. They look relieved. They believe us.

No one mentions Peeta.

I can't believe what's happening. Peeta is so much worse for the wear and no one seems to care about it. I feel like I'm alone on an island, and my heart is breaking, because even Gale doesn't say anything. I thought that out of everyone, that Gale would give it to me straight that he would talk about the interview but he doesn't. I start to mess around with my rings again, scared to death for the first time what the giver of them is going through. I have a moment of gasping where I can't breathe, but I manage to pull myself together.

That night, I stop trying to sleep after my first few attempts are interrupted by unspeakable nightmares. After that, I just lie still and do fake breathing whenever someone checks on me. In the morning, I'm released from the hospital and instructed to take it easy. Cressida asks me to record a few lines for a new Mockingjay propo. At lunch, I keep waiting for people to bring up Peeta's appearance, but no one does. Someone must have seen it besides Finnick and me.

I have training, but Gale's scheduled to work with Beetee on weapons or something, so I get permission to take Finnick to the woods. We wander around awhile and then ditch our communicators under a bush. When we're a safe distance away, we sit and discuss Peeta's broadcast.

"I haven't heard one word about it. No one's told you anything?" Finnick says. I shake my head. He pauses before he asks, "Not even Gale?" I'm clinging to a shred of hope that Gale honestly knows nothing about Peeta's message. But I have a bad feeling he does. "Maybe he's trying to find a time to tell you privately."

"Maybe," I say.

"For dinner, there's minced venison in the stew. Gale walks me back to Compartment E after we eat. When I ask him what's been going on, again there's no mention of Peeta. As soon as my mother and sister are asleep, I slip the pearl from the drawer and spend a second sleepless night clutching it in my hand, replaying Peeta's words in my head. "Ask yourself, do you really trust the people you're working with? Do you really know what's going on? And if you don't . . . find out." Find out. What? From who? And how can Peeta know anything except what the Capitol tells him? It's just a Capitol propo. More noise. But if Plutarch thinks it's just the Capitol line, why didn't he tell me about it? Why hasn't anyone let me or Finnick know?

Under this debate lies the real source of my distress: Peeta. What have they done to him? And what are they doing to him right now? Clearly, Snow did not buy the story that Peeta and I knew nothing about the rebellion. And his suspicions have been reinforced, now that I have come out as the Mockingjay. Peeta can only guess about the rebel tactics or make up things to tell his torturers. Lies, once discovered, would be severely punished. How abandoned by me he must feel. In his first interview, he tried to protect me from the Capitol and rebels alike, and not only have I failed to protect him, I've brought down more horrors upon him.

Come morning, I stick my forearm in the wall and stare groggily at the day's schedule. Immediately after breakfast, I am slated for Production. In the dining hall, as I down my hot grain and milk and mushy beets, I spot a communicuff on Gale's wrist. "When did you get that back, Soldier Hawthorne?" I ask.

"Yesterday. They thought if I'm going to be in the field with you, it could be a backup system of communication," says Gale.

No one has ever offered me a communicuff. I wonder, if I asked for one, would I get it? "Well, I guess one of us has to be accessible," I say with an edge to my voice.

"What's that mean?" he says.

"Nothing. Just repeating what you said," I tell him. "And I totally agree that the accessible one should be you. I just hope I still have access to you as well."

Our eyes lock, and I realize how furious I am with Gale. That I don't believe for a second that he didn't see Peeta's propo. That I feel completely betrayed that he didn't tell me about it. We know each other too well for him not to read my mood and guess what has caused it.

"Katniss —" he begins. Already the admission of guilt is in his tone.

I grab my tray, cross to the deposit area, and slam the dishes onto the rack. By the time I'm in the hallway, he's caught up with me.

"Why didn't you say something?" he asks, taking my arm.

"Why didn't I?" I jerk my arm free. "Why didn't you, Gale? And I did, by the way, when I asked you last night about what had been going on!"

"I'm sorry. All right? I didn't know what to do. I wanted to tell you, but everyone was afraid that seeing Peeta's propo would make you sick," he says.

"They were right. It did. But not quite as sick as you lying to me for Coin." At that moment, his communicuff starts beeping. "There she is. Better run. You have things to tell her."

For a moment, real hurt registers on his face. Then cold anger replaces it. He turns on his heel and goes. Maybe I have been too spiteful, not given him enough time to explain. Maybe everyone is just trying to protect me by lying to me. I don't care. I'm sick of people lying to me for my own good. Because really it's mostly for their own good. Lie to Katniss about the rebellion so she doesn't do anything crazy. Send her into the arena without a clue so we can fish her out. Don't tell her about Peeta's propo because it might make her sick, and it's hard enough to get a decent performance out of her as it is.

I do feel sick. Heartsick. And too tired for a day of production. But I'm already at Remake, so I go in. Today, I discover, we will be returning to District 12. Cressida wants to do unscripted interviews with Gale and me throwing light on our demolished city.

"If you're both up for that," says Cressida, looking closely at my face.

"Count me in," I say. I stand, uncommunicative and stiff, a mannequin, as my prep team dresses me, does my hair, and dabs makeup on my face. Not enough to show, only enough to take the edge off the circles under my sleepless eyes.

I take them to the meadow and they ask me to sing, so I sing _The Hanging Tree_. A hush in the trees. Just the rustle of leaves in the breeze. But no birds, mockingjay or other. Peeta's right. They do fall silent when I sing. Just as they did for my father." He told me as much in the first Games, but I just brushed it off…but he was right. All along, he was right. I feel almost as if I'm being strangled when the birds pick up the tune and carry it forward.

By the time we reach the town square, afternoon's sinking into evening. I take Cressida to the rubble of the bakery and ask her to film something. The only emotion I can muster is exhaustion. "Peeta, this is your home. None of your family has been heard of "since the bombing. Twelve is gone. And you're calling for a cease-fire?" I look across the emptiness. "There's no one left to hear you."

And there isn't. Not a soul. Poor Peeta. My Peeta. He's all alone in the Capitol and I can't do anything about it. I can sooth him after his nightmare, I can cuddle with him at night, I can't kiss his darling face. I can't do anything because Peeta is gone. The thought threatens to choke me.

That night for bed I cry for a good long while. I hadn't realized how much I miss Peeta. It was intentional, I thought that if I pushed the feelings away and forced myself not to feel anything that it would be better, that I could be better. But whenever he enters my mind, nightmare or beautiful memory, I have to fight the fury of emotion and tears that come with it. Nobody else understands, except for Finnick, and I feel a sad duty to stay sane for him. And the rebels don't need a sobbing, crying Mockingjay. They need a Mockingjay that I can never fully be, never fully be without Peeta, and that's exactly what I am.

I'm without Peeta.

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_**Thank you in advance for any reviews. You guys are great!**_


	16. Chapter 16

_**Good luck guys, I was crying writing this chapter...**_

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I'm in shock. I can't breathe. It's as if all the air has been ripped from my body in an instant. My heart is pounding inside my chest. If Finnick wasn't at my side holding my hand, I'm sure I would have flown into some sort of hysteria. Peeta was on the television again, but this time he was with Snow. His posture, his look, his physical appearance has me frightened beyond description. Here I was thinking that Peeta was safe and healthy…well, not entirely, but his state now…oh I can't even think about it without tears swarming me. My emotions are already on high alert and being pregnant just heightens them. I can't see my way out of this, I'm drowning. I see that I dream about every night, Peeta, being tortured for information he doesn't know. I don't know how I'm going to sleep after this.

The big new wave battle has taken Peeta and the Capitol by storm. I constantly see myself taking place of him on the screen, and it's all I can do to suppress the scream that's sure to make it's way out at some point. If I can't even keep sight of him on a tv screen, how am I supposed to know what's happening to him? I'm not. That's Snow's point. That's why he has Peeta with him, to show me that Peeta is suffering. I can't focus on anything but his face and voice until Snow asks him if he has anything to say to me. Here it comes, more crap from the Capitol.

At the mention of my name, Peeta's face contorts in effort. "Katniss . . . how do you think this will end? What will be left? No one is safe. Not in the Capitol. Not in the districts. And you . . . in Thirteen . . ." He inhales sharply, as if fighting for air; his eyes look insane. "Dead by morning!"

Snow freaks out by this, commanding people to end the program to take them off the air, but Beetee's done it. He's taken the fight to the Capitol and is fighting back with everything he has. His arsenal seems nearly unending. But what kills me is what's happening in the Capitol right now. Someone was running towards Peeta and knocked the camera to the ground. What happens next is not something that I'm prepared for, there's sounds of rods hitting a body, and I know that they are hitting Peeta. His cries of pain bring my hand—not held tightly by Finnick—over my mouth to stifle my scream, but tears fight to fall, and my chest is so tight, I'm sure I'll suffocate on my own agony. And then blood spatters the floor. I cannot breathe. Repeat. I cannot breathe.

I don't know what anyone's saying but Haymitch's voice catches my attention. "They're beating him bloody as we speak. What more do you need? Katniss help me out here!"

I have to force the words out, "I don't know where Peeta got the information. But he believes it and they're—" I can't talk anymore. I can't speak of what they're doing to him. Haymitch verbalizing it was like a slap in the face all by itself.

"You don't know him, we do," Haymitch says. "Get your people ready."

Everyone is ushered to the lower levels, prepared for these exact circumstances. When I get to my compartment—which mercifully is shared with my mother and Prim—and they aren't there yet. There's a list of instructions and I dutifully follow them. Probably because I need to be doing something with myself and sitting and sulking alone for some reason, doesn't feel very appealing this time around. Eventually my mother turns up. Upon realizing that Prim would have gone back for her possessed cat my mother and I rush to the gate and get there just in time for Gale and Prim to come through. Gale hands me the few items he grabbed from my room, but nothing can beat his bringing me Prim. He tells us that if we need him we know where to find him, and I agree.

All too soon we can hear bombs. Peeta was right. Oh god, Peeta was right. He tried to save me again. He's always saving me, always taking care of me. This is why I've always known he would make an amazing father, he cares so much and so fully, that he could probably give my father a run for his money. Blood. All that blood. My mind flashes back to the images on the screen, the cries of pain. I pull my wedding band off of my finger and squeeze so tightly in my hand that it's starting to leave a mark. I hold on to it, as if it's Peeta's life and no one can take it away from me as long as I guard it.

Coin's voice comes through the air, giving credit to Peeta's warning, and saying that we owe him our lives. And yes, of course we do. Me above all the others, he's given up and sacrificed so much for me. And what have I done for him? Treated him like my own personal game piece in the first arena, and then love. Well, I gave him love before the second arena…but I never told him that. Those words scare me, _I love you._ There were plenty of opportunities where it would have been more than acceptable, but I just…couldn't get the words out, now I regret having not said them. And then I had the audacity to sacrifice the only people in the world that he loves, just so that he could go on and live without me. Selfish. How so very selfish.

I decide to reach out to Prim and I ask her how she's liking Thirteen, overall it's a pretty good response. She says she misses home, but so does anyone from District Twelve. Tells me she's going to train to be a doctor. Prim would be wonderful at that. Thirteen years old and she knows what she wants to do with her life, my goal up to this point was either to stay alive, or to keep those that I love alive…I hadn't done much thinking about the future. Perhaps I should, owing to the fact that I'm going to be a mother soon.

"What about you Katniss? How are you managing?" she asks. "And don't tell me you're fine." Oh Prim, she is always so perceptive. She knows I'm not fine, and she doesn't mind getting that out of the way first.

I am the polar opposite of whatever her definition of fine is, and possibly a couple steps worse than that. My life has been completely been messed up by the Capitol, but especially President Snow. I have no sympathy for that man, especially after what happened with Peeta today. My hand starts hurting and I realize my grip has only grown tighter over my wedding ring. I loosen my grip but still keep my fingers closed around it. I decide to tell her about Peeta, what's happening to him, how he's deteriorated and what happened to him today. As I recount it all, my heart seems to be collapsing in upon itself and I'm having an issue getting air in and out of my lungs again.

"Katniss, I don't think President Snow will kill Peeta," she says. She knows this is what I want to hear. But I'm completely surprised by what she says next, "If he does, he won't have anything left you want. He won't have any way to hurt you."

She's right. Everyone else I care about is out of his reach. Everyone is here, safe with me. The only person not here and safe, is Peeta. If Snow didn't have Peeta I wouldn't hesitate at all, or feel such a strong need to protect and preserve Peeta's life, even if it is from afar. Then I'm reminded of Johanna Mason, she's said that there was no one left that she loved. Snow can't afford to kill Peeta, not with the Mockingjay causing so much havoc throughout the rebellion. With everyone else safe, Peeta is all he has left.

My heart weighs so heavy, but I have to ask. "What do you think they'll do to him?"

Prim sounds about a thousand years old when she answers.

"Whatever it takes to break you."

What is it that will break me? This is all I can think about for the following three days, but while playing Crazy Cat with Buttercup it all becomes clear as day. Crazy Cat becomes a metaphor. I am Buttercup. Peeta, the thing I want so badly to secure, is the light. As long as Buttercup feels he has the chance of catching the elusive light under his paws, he's bristling with aggression. (That's how I've been since I left the arena, with Peeta alive.) When the light goes out completely, Buttercup's temporarily distraught and confused, but he recovers and moves onto other things. (That's what would happen if Peeta died.) But the one thing that sends Buttercup into a tailspin I when I leave the light on but put it hopelessly out of his reach, high on the wall, beyond even his jumping skills. He paces below the wall, wails and can't be comforted or distracted. He's useless until I shut the light off. (That's what Snow is trying to do to me now, only I don't know what form his game takes.)

Maybe this realization on my part is all Snow needs. Thinking that Peeta is in his possession and being tortured for rebel information was bad. But thinking that he's being tortured specifically to incapacitate me is unendurable. And it's under the weight of this that I truly begin to break. With a sudden pain in my heart I put my ring back on and sneak out to find Finnick. That's the one thing about Finnick, he knows how this feels. This is how Snow broke him.

I ask him, redundantly, if this is what Snow is doing to Annie with him. He confirms it. Adding that they wouldn't have arrested her because they thought she might be a wealth of information, owing that he would never tell her anything that important.

"Of, Finnick. I'm so sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. That I didn't warn you somehow," he tells me.

I can vaguely remember being on a bed and Finnick trying to console me about what happened to Peeta. He told me, "_They'll figure out he doesn't know anything pretty fast. And they won't kill him if they think they can use him against you._"

"You did warn me, though. On the hovercraft. Only when you said they'd use Peeta against me, I thought you meant like bait. To lure me into the Capitol somehow," I say.

"I shouldn't have said even that. It was too late for it to be of any help to you. Since I hadn't warned you before the Quarter Quell, I should've shut up about how Snow operates." Finnick yanks the end of his rope, and an intricate knot becomes a straight line again. "It's just that I didn't understand when I met you. After your first Games, I thought the whole romance was an act on your part. We all expected you to continue that strategy. But it wasn't until Peeta hit the force field and nearly died that I—" Finnick hesitates.

I'm suddenly reminded of what it felt like to have Peeta actually die. The thought is traumatizing, much like that moment in time as well. I was so afraid, so very afraid that I had lost him for good. That moment confirmed what I'd been denying for so long, well, it wasn't _the_ defining moment, but it was certainly one of them. I also remember Finnick's quizzical expression. It finally made sense. He was startled by my emotions, by my utter collapse. "That you what?"

"That I knew I misjudged you. That you do love him. I'm not saying in what way. Maybe you don't know yourself. But anyone paying attention could see how much you care about him," he says gently.

Anyone? Snow's ultimatum, to _convince_ him of my love for Peeta. Well it seems that under that hot pink sky with Peeta's life in limbo, I finally did. And in doing so, I gave him the weapon he needed to break me.

After sitting in silence for a while with him, I dare ask. "How do you bear it?"

The look on Finnick's face is easily place able. It's a look that asks me to look at him, his life, how he's been here. Of course he doesn't bear it. "I don't, Katniss! Obviously I don't. I drag myself out of nightmares each morning only to find there's no relief in waking," something in my expression stops him. "Better not to give in to it. It takes ten times as long to put yourself together as it does to fall apart."

He must not see how much I've fallen apart already.

The next day we're cleared to go back and Cressida wants to go film a propo above ground, I agree. How hard can it be? As we approach what used to be the grand entrance, Gale points out something and the whole party slows down. I don't know what the problem is at first and then I see the ground strewn with fresh pink and red roses. "Don't touch them!" I yell. "They're for me!"

As I walk forward to examine them, something golden is shining through the mess of horrific scents. A single golden band. A wedding ring. My heart hammers in my chest and I can't hear anything. I squat down to pick it up, and as sure as my name is Katniss the inscription proves what I already know to be true.

_The girl on fire._ It's unmistakable. Undeniable, that what I hold in my hand is without a doubt Peeta's wedding ring. I choke down a sob as I stand and clutch it into my left hand and it makes contact with my rings and I have to fight to keep myself together. Snow knows exactly what he's doing and I'm breaking. I'm finding it impossible to think of anything but Peeta since I found the flowers and his ring.

I take my position and face my camera crew, Plutarch, Haymitch and Gale. Cressida's in position now. "So Katniss. You've survived the Capitol bombing of Thirteen. How did it compare to what you experienced on the ground in Eight?"

Different. Of course it felt different. "We were so far underground this time, there was no real danger. Thirteen's alive and well and so am—" My voice cuts off in a squeaking sound. I'm not well. I'm barely alive. I cannot say this line without lying about something.

"Try the line again," says Cressida. "'Thirteen's alive and well and so am I.'"

I take a deep breath trying to force air into my diaphragm, even though I still haven't recovered from the roses. "Thirteen's alive and so—" No, that's wrong. I'm fighting so hard to stay in control, and I swear I can still smell the roses.

I swing my arms to loosen myself up. Place my fists on my hips. Then drop them to my sides. Saliva's filling my mouth at such a ridiculous rate and I feel vomit at the back of my throat. I swallow hard and begin to open my lips so I can get the stupid line out and go hide in the woods—and that's when I start crying.

It's impossible to be the Mockingjay. Impossible to complete even this one sentence. Because now I know that everything I say will be directly taken out on Peeta. Result in his torture. But not his death, no, nothing so merciful as that. Snow will ensure that his life is much worse than death. Peeta. My Peeta. I'm responsible for all of this. My throat tightens up so much more, my chest is so tight that I think I might burst, and tears are still streaming from my eyes.

"Cut," I hear Cressida say quietly.

"What's wrong with her?" Plutarch says under his breath.

"She's figured out how Snow's using Peeta," says Finnick.

Finnick is right. I can't do anything. Not a single thing when I know it will result in Peeta's pain. Have I done nothing but cause him pain? Why do I keep doing everything wrong? Why can't I save him? Why can't I-? Why can't I-? There's something like a collective sigh of regret from the semicircle of people spread out before me. Because I know this now. Because there will never be a way for me not to know this again. Because, beyond the military disadvantage losing a Mockingjay entails, I am broken.

Several people reach out to hold me, but in the end the only person I want to comfort me is Haymitch, because he loves Peeta, too. I barely get his name out and he's there. His arms wrapped protectively around me. Much like I imagine my fathers would do if he was here. "It's okay. It'll be okay, sweetheart." He sits me down and keeps an arm around me. My left hand flies to my stomach.

"I can't do this anymore," I say.

"I know," he says.

"All I can think of if—what he's going to do to Peeta—because I'm the Mockingjay!" I get out. Sobbing is causing me to shake uncontrollably. I'm sweating profusely and I'm clutching both Peeta's ring and my round belly.

"I know." Haymitch's arm tighten around me.

"Did you see? How weird he acted? What are they—doing to him?" I'm gasping for air between sobs, "It's my fault!" And then I cross some line into hysteria and there's a needle in my arm and the world slips away.

I wake many times in the hospital from nightmares. Any way that's possible for the to torture Peeta is what I see. Every possible threat. Every single thing that I've been fearing for weeks upon weeks. Shortly after waking though I'm put back under. I can't wake up without gasping and clutching Peeta's ring that—thankfully—was placed on a chain and now hangs around my neck…but even that sends me into another fit of hysteria and I'm unconscious again.

One of the times that I'm conscious Haymitch tells me that all of this is to keep the baby safe, since I'm clearly unfit to take care of myself. It's not quite bed rest, but it might as well be. I'm hardly awake for more than five or ten minutes at a time. Snow wanted to break me. He wanted to crush me. He wanted to take everything from me. And only now do I realize what he took from me…

…_you're my whole life, I'd never be happy again…_

He's taken my whole life from me.

And I won't be happy again until Peeta is successfully in my arms again.

Safe. Where no one can hurt him.

Especially Snow.


	17. Chapter 17

_**This chapter would have been up hours ago, but the "manage stories" portion of the site is down. Grr...**_

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I wake from another nightmare and discover that Haymitch is sitting beside me in a chair. Then I remember even just for an instant about Peeta and I start to shake uncontrollably.

Haymitch leans forward and takes my hand into his. "It's alright. We're going to try to get Peeta out."

"What?" that makes no sense. Of course, it's wonderful news. The possibility that I might have Peeta back with me, but why have they decided now to get him out? Why couldn't they have done that before? If they're willing to do it now, why didn't they do it before?

"Plutarch is sending in a rescue team. He has people on the inside. He thinks he can get Peeta back alive," he says, lightly kissing my hand. He sure has taken on the role of babying me lately. Or maybe that's just him trying to take care of me…maybe he's still trying to fulfill his promises to Peeta. I hadn't thought about that before. I have judged him far too harshly.

"Why didn't we before?" I finally say.

"Because it is costly. But everyone agrees this is the thing to do. It's the same choice we made in the arena. To do whatever it takes to keep you going. We can't lose the Mockingjay now. And you can't perform unless you know Snow can't take it out on Peeta." Haymitch offers me a cup. "Here, drink this."

I slowly sit up, but my head is swarming with what he's just said. Do whatever it takes to keep me going. They can't lose me now. But it's costly, and that makes me shudder. I wish everyone would stop dying for me. It doesn't really help my image…though being pregnant diminishes that plenty well on it's own. "What do you mean, costly?"

He shrugs. "Covers will be blown. People may die. But keep in mind they're dying every day. And it's not just Peeta; we're getting Annie out for Finnick, too."

"Where is he?" I ask. I have a sudden desire to talk to Finnick. We're both going to be overwhelmed by this, and still no one understands how I feel better than he does, well, save for Haymitch. It's been hell for him too. He may have admitted to me being his favorite, but he cares about Peeta too. I know that for a fact.

"Behind the screen, sleeping his sedative off. He lost it right after we knocked you out," says Haymitch. The poor guy. In a strange way I think we've helped each other stay, relatively, sane. I don't know that I could have gotten through this without Finnick. I do smile a little, and don't feel as weak. "Yeah, it was a really excellent shoot. You two cracked up and Boggs left to arrange the mission to get Peeta. We're officially in reruns."

"Well, if Boggs is leading it, that's a plus," I say.

"Oh, he's on top of it. It was volunteer only, but he pretended not to notice me waving my hand in the air," says Haymitch. "See? He's already demonstrated good judgment."

Something's wrong. Haymitch is trying too hard to cheer me up. It's not really his style. "So who else volunteered?"

"I think there were seven altogether," he says evasively.

I get a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Why else, Haymitch?" I insist.

Haymitch finally drops the good-natured act. "You know who else, Katniss. You know who stepped up first."

Of course I do.

Gale.

Will I never get over owing them things? The list of things I owe Peeta is extremely long. Gale's grows all the time. Between the two of them, I couldn't pay them back if I died three times for each.

After begging Haymitch for something to do to help with the rescue mission, I go see Finnick. He has a slightly different way of looking at the possible events of today than I do. But he agrees to help in anyway he can to help distract those in the Capitol. So we agree to go out and do a propo…especially considering we sincerely messed up the last one by falling apart. We owe them a good propo, especially if it will help bring everyone back sooner.

When we've all assembled above ground I realize that quite possibly my best defense right now, would be to talk about Peeta. I haven't talked about him much more than to stick up for him, or to combat other people's comments. It should be good to actually talk about him. Cressida agrees.

"How did you meet Peeta?" she asks.

And then I do the thing Haymitch has wanted me to do since my first interview. I open up. "When I met Peeta, I was eleven years old, and I was almost dead. I was slumped up against a tree near his house and he saw me. He intentionally burnt bread, risking abuse to bring the bread out to me. It saved our lives. But we never actually spoke until the Games."

"But he was already in love with you," says Cressida.

"I guess so." I smile. I haven't given that much thought either. He's loved me since we were five. Since I sang in that classroom. Since the birds fell silent when I sang. He's always watched out for me. Always.

"How are you doing with the separation?" she asks.

"Not well. I'd spent almost all—if not all—of my time with him after the first Games, and all throughout the Victory Tour, then the few brief weeks we were married, and then during the second Games. It's been terrible being by myself. Facing the nightmares that keep me up half the night without him. I guess I never fully understood withdrawal, until all of this happened." I say twisting my rings around my finger. "It's been difficult to say the very least. I just keep hoping he'll come back to me. That I haven't lost him forever. But there's no guarantee and that scares me."

Next up is Finnick, and I realized that not only did he misjudge me, and my love for Peeta; but I also misjudged him in regards to being such a heartthrob. Snow sold him off to people. Apparently the fate of the more desirable victors. I feel terrible knowing that. It however only intensifies my wish to kill Snow. Then Finnick opens up about all the secrets he's been told. "_What did you do with all your money?" _I had asked him the day we met. "_Oh I haven't dealt in anything as common as money in years,_" he had replied. "_Then how do people pay for the pleasure of your company?_" I said this so critically. I can only imagine how that made him feel now that I know the truth. "_With secrets._" He had said. I misjudged him from the start. It would seem that we're more alike than our circumstances suggest.

It must be midnight, it must be tomorrow when Haymitch pushes open the door. "They're back. We're wanted in the hospital." My mouth opens with a flood of questions that he cuts off with "That's all I know."

I want to run, but Finnick's acting so strange, as if he's lost the ability to move, so I take his hand and lead him like a small child. Through Special Defense, into the elevator that goes this way and that, and on to the hospital wing. The place is in an uproar, with doctors shouting orders and the wounded being wheeled through the halls in their beds.

We're almost wiped out by a gurney that comes right past us. Finnick hollers at them about almost knocking a pregnant woman to the ground, but they just keep going. Only now do I realize that I know the woman on the gurney. Head shaven, but there's no denying that the person we're looking at is Johanna Mason. I feel a pang of guilt. She hurt me so that I could get away, I guess I owe her a lot too. Is there no one in my life that I don't owe them for something?

I catch sight of Gale. He's hurt but alive. And that's good enough for me now. I'll make sure to visit him later. I've just made this decision when there is a shriek of joy from what must be a woman to our right. "Finnick!" she screams. Annie. "Finnick!" It doesn't take long for them to meet. Iron strong grip. No one could take them apart. Completely one. No one could ever doubt their love.

I feel a pang of jealousy. Because everyone knows that he loves Annie, but everyone still questions how I feel about Peeta. Everyone. The only people exempt from that are my mother and Prim, and more than likely Haymitch. But no one else seems to accept it. Maybe that was just so they didn't have to feel guilty about leaving Peeta. If that's the case I'm glad.

Just then I can see Boggs, looks tired but unharmed. He comes over to Haymitch and me explaining that they were able to get everyone out except for Enobaria, but they he doesn't think she's being held against her will anyway, as she's from District 2.

And then he says what I've been waiting endless weeks to hear. "Peeta's at the end of the hall. The effect of the gas are wearing off. You should be there when he wakes up." Yes, I should. I wouldn't argue this, ever.

_Peeta._

Alive. Safe. Here with me. Oh, it sounds too good to be true. I just keep thinking about what it's going to be like to see him again. To hold him in my arms. To actually talk about this baby like it wasn't a curse. Not that I really thought like it was a curse, babies are never accursed. But I don't know how I could live with myself if anything happened to Peeta and all that I had left of him would be this baby. Granted it's better to have something of him verses nothing of him. His ring bounces against my chest and I pull it off my neck and fumble to get it off the chain.

We're almost there. We're almost there. My heart is pounding so loud inside my chest that I can't hear anything, can't focus on anything. Only that Peeta is here. My Peeta. Here with me, and safe. Snow can't hurt him anymore. There is nothing stopping me in the assault against the Capitol. Nothing to make me hesitate. Peeta is here and Snow can't do anything to him.

Peeta's already awake when we get there. There's a trio of doctors there doing…doctor-y things. I can't focus on what they're doing all I can focus on is Peeta. I stifle a scream. Not a bad scream, just one of…something. My mind is not connecting anything right now. If I didn't know it was directly effected by Peeta's presence I would blame it on the pregnancy. I'm disappointed that my face wasn't the first one he saw, but I'm just glad he's awake.

Haymitch and I walk through the door together. Peeta's eyes register disbelief first, and then something I can't describe. Something I can't describe? Wouldn't he be looking affectionately? Or does he think he's dreaming. He stands up shoving the doctors away from him and starts to run in my direction—with an expression I still cannot place—his arms are in the air…in the air? Just when I think he's about to embrace me Haymitch hurls his body into Peeta and pins him against the wall. "Get Katniss out of here!" he screams as the doctor sticks a needle in Peeta's arm and Plutarch ushers me out of the room.

I'm in shock.

Peeta was ready to choke me.

Peeta was going to kill me.

No.

This is not my Peeta.

This is not my Peeta, at all…

I don't hold anything back now. I cry. There's nothing else for me to do at this point. No thoughts, nothing. I am numb. I'm too shaken to say or do anything. I'm not even hyperventilating. _What did Snow do to him? _I slide down the wall to the floor, put my face in my hands, and I clutch Peeta's ring. Apparently, he's not getting it back today.


	18. Chapter 18

_**This is another long one guys. And I've shortened some of the time that goes by in the book to accommodate where I've sped it up. And thank you for all the wonderful reviews!**_

* * *

Doctors come over to me and force me to lay down so that they can check things and make sure that me and the baby are okay, because of the "_emotional trauma I just experienced_." Pretty sure it's more than just a little emotional trauma I just suffered. Peeta came charging at me. And not in the good way. I've never been this scared of him in my life. _Why couldn't I have just died in the arena? I don't care which one at this point. Just, why couldn't I just be dead? It would certainly be easier than this._

Almost immediately after they've started to check me over Prim rushes in. Whether she was told what Peeta tried to do, or just that I was here again I don't know. I just know that my sister is here and I need her right now, desperately. She comes right over to me, hops up on the bed and grabs my hand.

Plutarch, Haymitch and Beetee now make an appearance—or reappearance in Plutarch's case—to talk to me about Peeta. Part of me doesn't want to listen. Wants to shut them all out, but I can't do that. I need to know what happened to Peeta, and if necessary I will force myself to listen. Will probably have to force myself to listen. Well, at least I have Prim here. They tried to make her leave, but she's stubborn. I love her so much.

"So, Katniss, Peeta's condition has come as a shock to all of us," says Plutarch. "We couldn't help but notice his deterioration in the last two interviews. Obviously, he'd been abused, and we put his psychological state down to that. Now we believe something more was going on. That the Capitol has been subjecting him to a rather uncommon technique known as hijacking. Beetee?"

"I'm sorry," Beetee says, "but I can't tell you all the specifics of it, Katniss. The Capitol's very secretive about this form of torture, and I believe the results are inconsistent. This we do know. It's a type of fear conditioning. The term hijack comes from an old English word that means 'to capture,' or even better, 'seize.' We believe it was chosen because the technique involves the use of tracker jacker venom, and the jack suggested hijack. You were stung in your first Hunger Games, so unlike most of us, you have firsthand knowledge of the effects of the venom."

Terror. Hallucinations. Nightmarish visions of losing those I love. Because the venom targets the part of the brain that houses fear.

"I'm sure you remember how frightening it was. Did you also suffer mental confusion in the aftermath?" asks Beetee. "A sense of being unable to judge what was true and what was false? Most people who have been stung and lived to tell about it report something of the kind."

Yes. That encounter with Peeta. Even after I was clearheaded, I wasn't sure if he had saved my life by taking on Cato or if I'd imagined it. It's still a point of confusion even though I've seen the proof that he did help save me. It still isn't a clear memory. And this is what they've done to Peeta? Distorted his memories of me, so much that—no. I'm not going to think about that right now.

"Recall is made more difficult because memories can be changed." Beetee taps his forehead. "Brought to the forefront of your mind, altered, and saved again in the revised form. Now imagine that I ask you to remember something — either with a verbal suggestion or by making you watch a tape of the event — and while that experience is refreshed, I give you a dose of tracker jacker venom. Not enough to induce a three-day blackout. Just enough to infuse the memory with fear and doubt. And that's what your brain puts in long-term storage."

I start to feel sick. Prim asks the question that's in my mind. "Is that what they've done to Peeta? Taken his memories of Katniss and distorted them so they're scary?"

Beetee nods. "So scary that he'd see her as life-threatening. That he might try to kill her. Yes, that's our current theory."

I cover my face with my arms because this isn't happening. It isn't possible. For someone to make Peeta forget he loves me . . . no one could do that. There's a shudder through my body, Prim squeezes my hand. But Peeta…not knowing he loves me. How is there a world that that even exists? They had to use a lot of that venom then, because Peeta loves me far more—and arguably, far better—than I do him. It would be so much easier for them to hijack me and make me hate him than the other way around. But to make him hate me…they had to show him happy memories. Times on camera where he didn't just say he loved me, but where he showed it. They took every wonderful thing about us and made it all bad in his mind.

"But you can reverse it, right?" asks Prim, calling me back to the conversation.

"Um . . . very little data on that," says Plutarch. "None, really. If hijacking rehabilitation has been attempted before, we have no access to those records."

"Well, you're going to try, aren't you?" Prim persists. "You're not just going to lock him up in some padded room and leave him to suffer?"

"Of course, we'll try, Prim," says Beetee. "It's just, we don't know to what degree we'll succeed. If any. My guess is that fearful events are the hardest to root out. They're the ones we naturally remember the best, after all."

Fearful. I know that first hand. Peeta dying in that arena. I see it all the time in my dreams. I remember it all the time. Fear of losing him, that plagues me every morning and every night…and every single moment in between. And now here we are, and I've never been so scared of him in my life.

"And apart from his memories of Katniss, we don't yet know what else has been tampered with," says Plutarch. "We're putting together a team of mental health and military professionals to come up with a counterattack. I, personally, feel optimistic that he'll make a full recovery."

"Do you?" asks Prim caustically. "And what do you think, Haymitch?"

I shift my arms slightly so I can see his expression through the crack. He's exhausted and discouraged as he admits, "I think Peeta might get somewhat better. But . . . I don't think he'll ever be the same." I snap my arms back together, closing the crack, shutting them all out.

"At least he's alive," says Plutarch, as if he's losing patience with the lot of us. "Snow executed Peeta's stylist and his prep team on live television tonight. We've no idea what happened to Effie Trinket. Peeta's damaged, but he's here. With us. And that's a definite improvement over his situation twelve hours ago. Let's keep that in mind, all right?"

Yes, thank you for that Plutarch. Now there are more people that have died because of me, and Peeta. And innocent at that. I don't know if Peeta cares about them same way that I do my prep team, but just remembering the state they were in when we found them is depressing at best. And Effie. Oh, dear Effie. I hope she's okay. If Snow killed her, that's another death he'll have to answer for. His list is certainly piling up. My heart throbs and my throat is so tight when I think back to Peeta charging at me. I start gasping again and after a moment they make the decision to sedate me again.

Over the next few days I can't seem to function or do anything on my own. I have my own room in the hospital, my mother, Prim, Gale or Haymitch are with me constantly. There is no more Finnick who understands what I'm going through. Annie came back the same. Annie still loves him. And for once, I'm jealous of Finnick Odair and it is not a comforting feeling. I don't want to be jealous of Finnick, he's suffered just as bad as I have, but he's not suffering anymore, and I am. I resent his happiness in light of my own unhappiness. It's not fair I know, but I don't know what else to feel.

The next morning they decide to release me, with strict orders to not do too much and not to over exert myself. To keep my breathing normal. It's vital that I stop having panic attacks as it's not just my oxygen that's being cut. I know they're right, so I try as best as possible not to think of Peeta. But not thinking of Peeta is like…not eating. I'm doing an okay job at this when Prim finds me. "Katniss, I know the whole thing with Peeta is terrible for you. But Snow had him for weeks, and we've only had him for a few days. There's a chance that the old Peeta, the one that loves you, is still inside. Don't give up on him."

I look at her in bewilderment. Prim is a mixture of everything that's good, in both of my parents and me. She illuminates the bad and finds the good. She has an ability to look at the confusing mess of life and see things for what they are. Is it possible he could be right? That Peeta could return to me? Is that too much to hope for?

I continue to walk aimlessly around, I get lost several times in fact. I end up in Special Defense where I find Gale and Beetee hard at work on something.

"Come and see," he says, waving me over to a computer screen. This is what they've been doing. Taking the fundamental ideas behind Gale's traps and adapting them into weapons against humans. Bombs mostly. It's less about the mechanics of the traps than the psychology behind them. Booby-trapping an area that provides something essential to survival. A water or food supply. Frightening prey so that a large number flee into a greater destruction. Endangering offspring in order to draw in the actual desired target, the parent. Luring the victim into what appears to be a safe haven — where death awaits it. At some point, Gale and Beetee left the wilderness behind and focused on more human impulses. Like compassion. A bomb explodes. Time is allowed for people to rush to the aid of the wounded. Then a second, more powerful bomb kills them as well."

"That seems to be crossing some kind of line," I say. "So anything goes?" They both stare at me — Beetee with doubt, Gale with hostility. "I guess there isn't a rule book for what might be unacceptable to do to another human being." Beetee would understand, or at least see where I'm coming from. Gale will just assume it's because I don't like it, not because I've had to kill people to stay alive. There are no winners of the Games, only survivors. And Beetee and I are survivors. Gale, is just Gale.

"Sure there is. Beetee and I have been following the same rule book President Snow used when he hijacked Peeta," says Gale.

Cruel, but to the point. I leave without further comment. I feel if I don't get outside immediately, I'll just go ballistic, but I'm still in Special Defense when I'm waylaid by Haymitch. "Come on," he says. "We need you back up at the hospital."

"What for?" I ask. Did the doctors decide I shouldn't be out on my own? Is there something wrong with me? Or with the baby? Why would they want me back in the hospital—

"They're going to try something on Peeta," he answers. "Send in the most innocuous person from Twelve they can come up with. Find someone Peeta might share childhood memories with, but nothing too close to you. They're screening people now."

This may not be as easy as they're thinking. Because Peeta and I were in the same class, but if they can manage to find someone who can connect with him, at least on some level; I'll be grateful for that. When we get to the hospital, near Peeta's room I see her. Delly Cartwright. She gives me the smile that she gives everyone. "Katniss!" She's happier to see me than I am to see her…or anyone for that matter. Except maybe Prim.

They explain to me that they're trying to get a few connections to me as possible. I have to admit as far as that goes Delly is probably one of the best options. Even though I'm trying very hard to ignore the feeling, I resent Delly. Not because she's a bad person, but because she probably has a better chance at reaching out to Peeta than I do, and once again I'm crippled by the fact that I can't do anything, and the doctors are more cautious and hesitant now than before. Before we head to the observation room Plutarch called, Delly, "pleasant company." I couldn't help but feeling like the only company he should have is mine. _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Get ahold of yourself Katniss. My god. Pull yourself together._

The observation room is already crowded when Haymitch, Plutarch and I enter. Ten of the people in Peeta's "recovery team," are standing at the ready. Clipboard and pens ready to make as many notes as possible. I can't help but feel a little protective of Peeta. If he were really here—he is really here Katniss—I don't think he'd enjoy this at all. To be watched and scrutinized…like a piece in their game. And that's exactly what he would say. Oh Peeta…please come back to me…

As Delly slowly makes her way into the room Peeta's facial expression is hard, but once Delly smiles he relaxes almost taciturn. "Peeta? It's me Delly, from home." His confusion seems to ebb away and not slowly. I want to hit him.

"Delly? Delly, it's you."

Great. He recognizes her and doesn't dart at her throat. Nope, I'm the lucky one there. _Oh my god, Katniss, you aren't making this any easier on yourself._ I straighten my posture and start to move Peeta's ring left and right, right and left, back and forth across the chain until Haymitch glares at me and I drop it.

"Yes!" she's relieved. I am not. "How do you feel?"

"Awful. Where are we? What's happened?" he asks her. All questions I wish I could be answering for him, instead of Delly. _Katniss, you better be glad no one knows what you're thinking, or they might sedate you more often._

"I told her to steer clear of any mention of Katniss or the Capitol," says Plutarch at my side. I'm slightly startled, because I pictured this was going to be a silent viewing. Much like a funeral. A funeral for the old Peeta. _Katniss! My god woman!_ "Just see how much of home she can conjure up."

She explains how we're in District Thirteen, this is our home now. The boring, fundamental-y foundational-y stuff. He asks why. She explains in as vague a way as possible that there was an accident, before somewhat, hastily changing the subject. Chalk and stones, and all things I realize I never got to do with Peeta. For once, I'm actually angry with myself that I hadn't talked to him all those years ago. But if I'd fallen in love with him in the past…the reaping would have been hell…but then again, the "star-crossed lovers" thing, would have been 100% real the entire time.

"…your father used to make dough girls and dough boys?" Delly says. Weird topic, but whatever.

"There was a fire," Peeta says suddenly, notes are being written down, and I'm not sure why, but my whole body seems to tense up.

"Yes," she whispers.

"Twelve burned down, didn't it? Because of her," says Peeta angrily. "Because of Katniss!" He begins to pull at his restraints and my heart starts to sink. Delly hadn't even said one word about me.

"Oh, no, Peeta. It wasn't her fault," says Delly.

"Did she tell you that?" he hisses at her. Great. Now he's upset with her too.

"Get her out of there," says Plutarch. The door opens and Delly begins to back up slowly. I'm sort of satisfied that he didn't react so wonderfully to having her there, but at the same time…

"She didn't have to. I was—" Delly begins.

"Because she's lying! She's a liar! You can't believe anything she says! She's some kind of mutt the Capitol created to use against the rest of us!" Peeta shouts. There's only one other time I've heard him yell like that…and it was never about or to me.

"No, Peeta. She's not a—" Delly tries again. Okay, maybe she's not so bad.

"Don't trust her, Delly," says Peeta in a frantic voice. "I did, and she tried to kill me. She killed my friends. My family. Don't even go near her! She's a mutt!"

A hand reaches through the door way and pulls Delly out. But Peeta keeps screaming even after the door is shut. "A mutt! She's a stinking mutt!"

So, not only does he hate me, and want to kill me…but he no longer thinks I'm human. It would have been less painful to be strangled. I hear scratching noises and realize everyone with a clipboard is writing fiercely. Something that just happened or that he said was noteworthy.

Then I feel Haymitch and Plutarch tugging and pulling me out of the room, but I can still hear Peeta screaming. How many ways can he think of to call me a mutt? The amount I've heard is staggering. I think Prim was wrong. I don't think the Peeta that still loves me is in there. The Peeta that liked me isn't even in there. "I can't stay here anymore," I tell them, my voice cracking. "If you want me to be the Mockingjay, you'll have to send me away."

They share a concerned glance and then Haymitch speaks. "Where do you want to go?"

"To the Capitol." It's the only place I can think of where I have a job to do.

"Can't do that," says Plutarch. "Not until the districts are secure. Good news is, the fighting's almost over in all of them but Two. It's a tough nut to crack, though."

That's right. The districts. The Capitol. And then I hunt down and kill Snow.

"Fine," I say. "Send me to two."

There are protests from everyone about sending me anywhere in my "condition." They're still not using the word pregnant and I'm still bothered by that. Why is that such a hard thing to admit to? I'm showing so much now, how can anyone question is? Sixteen weeks. How is that even possible?

My time in District Two is active at the least, I've been here three weeks already. That means I'm 19 weeks along now, boy do I feel fat. I'm okayed to do very little, but I'm able to hunt. So that's something comforting, though, I have to admit, it's getting harder and harder to shoot accurately.

One time Gale comes to visit me. I knew it might be trouble, but I brushed it off. Gave him the benefit of the doubt. He still kissed me though. I didn't realize how much I was craving that kind of affection, though it's not the same when it's not coming from Peeta. I stopped his kiss and he backed away willingly. Gale has better things to do than babysit me.

There's a big controversy about whether or not to blow something up or—I don't know, I don't remember. But it was a stupid plan and I was against it. But no one really listens to me anymore. During one of the meetings I realize it's only now that he's been corrupted that I can fully appreciate the real Peeta. Even more than I would've if he'd died. The kindness, the steadiness, the warmth that had an unexpected heat behind it. Outside of Prim, my mother, and Gale, how many people in the world love me unconditionally? I think in my case, the answer may now be none. Sometimes when I'm alone, I take the rings off my finger, or Peeta's which still hangs on a chain around my neck, and try to remember the boy with the bread, the strong arms that warded off nightmares, what would be our final, kisses in the arena. To make myself put a name to the thing I've lost. But what's the use? It's gone. He's gone. Whatever existed between us is gone. All that's left is my promise to kill Snow. I tell myself this ten times a day.

Peeta's rehabilitation continues, but nothing of substance. The only person who's straight with me about even the slightest progress is Haymitch, and he doesn't even sugar coat anything. On the day that they're supposed to carry out the plan I'm on the rooftop, and I have an earpiece in. I'm used to all the voices I hear, but one calling directly to me catches my attention. "Katniss?" it's Haymitch.

"Still here," I answer.

"Interesting turn of events with Peeta this afternoon. Thought you'd want to know," he says. Interesting isn't good. It isn't better. But I don't really have any choice but to listen. "We showed him that clip of you singing 'The Hanging Tree.' It was never aired, so the Capitol couldn't use it when he was being hijacked. He says he recognized the song."

For a moment, my heart skips a beat. Then I realize it's just more tracker jacker serum confusion. "He couldn't, Haymitch. He never heard me sing that song."

"Not you. Your father. He heard him singing it one day when he came to trade at the bakery. Peeta was small, probably six or seven, but he remembered it because he was specially listening to see if the birds stopped singing," says Haymitch. "Guess they did." Listened to hear them stop singing? Was that in attempt to prove what his father said, or compare it to when he said they stopped singing for me?

Six or seven. That would have been before my mother banned the song. Maybe even right around the time I was learning it. "Was I there, too?"

"Don't think so. No mention of you anyway. But it's the first connection to you that hasn't triggered some mental meltdown," says Haymitch. "It's something, at least, Katniss."

My father. He seems to be everywhere today. Singing his way into Peeta's muddled consciousness. Flickering in the look Boggs gives me as he protectively wraps the blanket around my shoulders. I miss him so badly it hurts. And I miss Peeta. This has just been one continuous nightmare…that I can't wake up from.

They decide to do a propo, a speech. Haymitch agrees to talk me through it. And I do some of it, but then people start emerging from the train tunnels and suddenly my need to preserve human life comes in and I rush to defend the defenseless. Reckless. Stupid. My attempt to win them over ends up getting me shot…well, it just grazed my side, but with everyone so worried about me I'm rushed back to Thirteen. I've got to admit, for a bullet not actually entering my body it still hurts like hell.

The baby is fine, although for an entire week my impulsiveness earns a lecture from just about everyone. Prim. My mother. Haymitch. Gale. Boggs. Coin, even, surprisingly. Everyone has a bone to pick with me. I just keeping thinking that none of them would even come close to the reaction I would get from Peeta. He's not my parent, but I'm certain he would ground me. Forget being put on bed rest, he'd never let me leave the bed, let alone the house. The thought actually makes me smile. Protective Peeta was always the best. He's need wonton to preserve my life before we were married was still just as strong as it was after we got married. The second Games especially.

There's one good thing about coming back to Thirteen. I can be here for Finnick and Annie's wedding. And that's something to be happy about. Since I can't enjoy my own marriage, out of anyone else here, they deserve it most. I lend Annie one of the many dresses Cinna had made for me, and since I can't wear _any_ of them, she should.

The wedding is wonderful, although not as extravagant as Plutarch wanted it. Coin would only let him go so far, and taking my own wedding and reception into account, I know that Coin made the right decision. It's probably the only one I've agreed with at all. The reception is very serene compared to mine. They weddings were so different, and the love of the bride and groom so different, that there really is not comparison…but as Peeta is not by my side, I can do almost nothing but compare.

A cake is soon brought out. A rarity here in Thirteen. A feeling rises in my gut. I know exactly who made the cake. And it's as if he can sense my discomfort and Haymitch is at my side. "We should talk." Yes, I agree. We _should_ talk. Haymitch pulls me out away from the cameras and I don't waste any time.

"What's happening to him?"

Haymitch shakes his head. "I don't know. None of us knows. Sometimes he's almost rational, and then, for no reason, he goes off again. Doing the cake was a kind of therapy. He's been working on it for days. Watching him . . . he seemed almost like before."

"So, he's got the run of the place?" I ask. The idea makes me nervous on about five different levels.

"Oh, no. He frosted under heavy guard. He's still under lock and key. But I've talked to him," Haymitch says.

"Face-to-face?" I ask. "And he didn't go nuts?"

"No. Pretty angry with me, but for all the right reasons. Not telling him about the rebel plot and whatnot." Haymitch pauses a moment, as if deciding something. "He says he'd like to see you."

No. No. Absolutely not. I'm not ready for this. Not at all.


	19. Chapter 19

_**I need reviews on this chapter especially, so any comment you can leave would be incredibly helpful! Thank you in advance...enjoy some fluff-ish stuff for**_** once...**

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_He says he'd like to see you._ Even though I know I shouldn't I agree to go.

I am scared stiff. My palms are sweating profusely. The door opens and those fierce blue eyes lock on me instantly. Haymitch has given me an earpiece so that he can tell me to get out if necessary, or any number of things. I think he just likes the fact that he can get inside my head. His eyes look me up and down, and I feel the need to protect myself so I clasp my hands together in front of my belly. "Hey." It's all that I know to say.

"Hey," he responds. It's like his voice, almost his voice, except there's something new in it. An edge of suspicion and reproach.

"Haymitch said you wanted to talk to me," I say.

"Look at you, for starters." It's like he's waiting for me to transform into a hybrid drooling wolf right before his eyes. He stares so long I find myself casting furtive glances at the one-way glass, hoping for some direction from Haymitch, but my earpiece stays silent. "You're not very big," it's like he forgot I have a gigantic stomach. Are you? Or particularly pretty?"

I know he's been through hell and back, and yet somehow the observation rubs me the wrong way. "Well, you've looked better."

"Haymitch's advice to back off gets muffled by Peeta's laughter. "And not even remotely nice. To say that to me after all I've been through."

"Yeah. We've all been through a lot. And you're the one who was known for being nice. Not me." I'm doing everything wrong. I don't know why I feel so defensive. He's been tortured! He's been hijacked! What's wrong with me? Suddenly, I think I might start screaming at him — I'm not even sure about what — so I decide to get out of there. "Look, I don't feel so well." And honestly I don't. Maybe I ate something I shouldn't have at the wedding. "Maybe I'll drop by tomorrow."

I've just reached the door when his voice stops me. "Katniss. I remember about the bread."

The bread. Our one moment of real connection before the Hunger Games.

"They showed you the tape of me talking about it," I say.

"No. Is there a tape of you talking about it? Why didn't the Capitol use it against me?" he asks.

"I made it the day you were rescued," I answer. The pain in my chest wraps around my ribs like a vise. The dancing was a mistake. "So what do you remember?"

"You. In the rain," he says softly. "Digging in our trash bins. Burning the bread. My mother hitting me. Taking the bread out for the pig but then giving it to you instead."

"That's it. That's what happened," I say. "The next day, after school, I wanted to thank you. But I didn't know how." I'm excited, but terrified as well. I don't want to get my hopes up.

"We were outside at the end of the day. I tried to catch your eye. You looked away. And then . . . for some reason, I think you picked a dandelion." I nod. He does remember. I have never spoken about that moment aloud. "I must have loved you a lot." Must have? Well that was like a razor sharp cut through my heart. Does he really not remember loving me at all?

"You did." My voice catches and I pretend to cough. There's also a sharp shot of pain that I can't deny, but I hide it, though I think he notices because his eyes soften briefly.

"And did you love me?" he asks.

I don't want to tell him like this. I keep my eyes on the tiled floor. "Everyone says I did. Everyone says that's why Snow had you tortured. To break me."

"That's not an answer," he tells me. Of course it's not an answer! "I don't know what to think when they show me some of the tapes. In that first arena, it looked like you tried to kill me with those tracker jackers."

"I was trying to kill all of you," I say. "You had me treed."

"Later, there's a lot of kissing. Didn't seem very genuine on your part. Did you like kissing me?" he asks. Of course I did.

"Sometimes," I say. "You know people are watching us now?"

"I know. What about Gale?" he continues.

My anger's returning. I don't care about his recovery — this isn't the business of the people behind the glass. "He's not a bad kisser either," I say shortly.

"And it was okay with both of us? You kissing the other?" he asks."

"No. It wasn't okay with either of you. But I wasn't asking your permission," I tell him.

"Is that baby his?" his eyes look different. Almost as if the question pained him to ask it. Does he not even remember that one thing? Surely the Capitol couldn't have made him forget that too…

"No," I cough. It's barely audible. "It's yours."

"Oh," he says, looking at the floor. "Good."

My head shoots straight up. What did he just say? I'm about to ask him when such a sharp pain hits me and I crumple to the ground. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong.

"Katniss?" Peeta's voice has raised in pitch as he tries to pull away from his restraints. "Katniss, what's going on?" he's shouting now. If I wasn't mistaken I would say there is worry, concern, and dare I say it, love in that voice. It's almost like my Peeta was here in this room. And maybe in this time of crisis he is.

Haymitch and several doctors enter the room and Haymitch pulls me off the ground. As Haymitch carries me from the room I can still hear Peeta shouting my name. It sounds almost like it did in the arena when we were separated. Another sharp pain. Something is wrong. Something is very very wrong.

In another hospital room the doctors start hooking me up to things running scans on my body, checking the baby and then one of them exclaims, "We need to do an emergency caesarian right now or we could lose them both!" My heart is pounding, I can't think, I can't breathe, and I can still hear Peeta's screams above the noise.

Two hours later, I'm lying in another hospital bed. My daughter was born premature and has been taken by the doctors and nurses. If Haymitch wasn't here with me, I think I might cry. I guess Peeta was screaming my name for so long he was losing his voice and control and they had to sedate him. It was like I had Peeta back. Like this wasn't some alternate mutt version of him. Maybe it was the fact that I was in inexplicable pain that triggered something in the recesses of his mind. The need to stop the pain. I don't know, but I cannot explain how it made my heart feel to hear him say it like that. The voice I heard screaming that I was a mutt, and this one were two completely different types. Maybe Prim was right, and maybe that Peeta is in there somewhere. But I refuse to get my hopes up.

I begged the doctors not to tell my mother or Prim or anyone else what was going on until something was determined. After what seems like an eternity and Haymitch sitting on the bed beside me stroking my hair a doctor comes back. "Katniss," he begins. Not confidently. That's as far from reassuring as you can get. "She's very small and very fragile, but we think she can make it. She's breathing on her own, which is huge. That means we don't need to provide her with oxygen, but she _is_ very small. We'll still need to keep her in an incubator for a while. Just so we can monitor her. You'll have complete access to anything, and any information you want to know."

"She's okay?" I choke out, and Haymitch brushes the tears from my eyes I didn't even know were falling.

"Yes." He says flatly. "Now the other matter at hand."

I look at him puzzled and notice that Haymitch doesn't know what he's talking about either. We both stare dumbfounded at the doctor. Waiting for him to continue, but it's not until Haymitch makes a circling motion in the air and I nod that the man continues.

"Your husband," he shakes his head. "We can't explain it. We aren't even sure what exactly happened, but you went into labor and there was a complete transition in his mood, his heart rate, pulse. I mean you name it and he had just about every reaction a normal father would have in this situation. We just can't explain it." He shakes his head again and a woman enters the room. They make eye contact briefly, the man sighs and turns back to me. "We need to know if you would allow him to visit her."

I inhale sharply. I hadn't even thought about this, and obviously neither has Haymitch because he goes stiff and stops stroking my hair. "What do you mean by, 'allow him to visit'?"

"Exactly that," says the woman. "His reaction to you going into labor, well, we don't understand it at all. We believe that no matter what is going on with his opinion of you, we think that him spending time with the baby might actually be a good thing. Knowing that she's his." My face must be saying something that I'm not thinking because she continues as if talking to a child. "He's made some significant improvement over the last twenty-four hours, that we cannot explain. But we think he is more stable now than ever."

Haymitch, oh I've never been so thankful for him in my life. "Do you think he's resolved his issues with Katniss? That the trauma of seeing her in pain, may have obliterated what Snow did to him?"

"We can't be sure until we see him around her again," says the man. "But yes, we think that is possible. He was saying her name in his sleep repeatedly. He's woken up twice screaming it. We don't know what's going on, Katniss, but we think he may be on his way back."

I can't even think straight. "She'll think about it." Haymitch says to the doctors, they nod and leave the room.

For the next hour or two, Haymitch and I don't say anything. In fact, I fall asleep nearly as soon as the doors shut. It's not until I wake up that I realize Haymitch has fallen asleep with his head rested on mine. Opening my eyes I see Prim. She clears her throat and Haymitch's head shoots up. "Don't come anywhere-" he stops on seeing Prim. "Oh, no. You can come near her." He smiles stands and walks over to a chair where he drops down onto it and falls right back to sleep, but not before I get a quick thank you out. "Anything for you, sweetheart." He says and then he's sleeping.

"Prim," I say extending my hand to hers. "They told you?"

"Well, not exactly." I came to see how your meeting went with Peeta and then I was ushered here. "What happened Katniss?"

I clear my throat, attempt to sit up and let out a small yelp in pain. I resolve not to move. "I had the baby."

"What?" she's staring at me, mouth wide open.

"Why weren't we told?" she asks, clearly offended.

"I wanted to wait until I knew what was going on…" I say slowly.

"Well, tell me." She prods.

"Well," I start. "I went to see Peeta and I was about to leave when he said he remembered the bread. Prim," I hiccup. I didn't realize I was crying till now. "He remembered the bread, and me picking a dandelion." I sigh, "then he asked about Gale. I'm getting really sick about them talking about each other. But I was determinedly ready to leave when I felt this intense pain, I don't even think I could describe it. I collapsed to the floor, Peeta started screaming my name and I was rushed out of the room."

"Wait," she interrupts. "Peeta was screaming your name?"

"Yeah." I don't know what else to say about that.

"Well, that's good right?" she asks. I shrug. I really don't know. "So the baby?"

"She's fine." I sigh. "They had to do an emergency operation to get her out, but they said she should be fine."

"If she's anything like her parents," Prim says with a smile, "she'll be a fighter."

"We weren't fighters by choice Prim," I remind her.

"No," she agrees. "But you're victors. That's better."

I shake my head at her, but I can feel my consciousness leaving me and pat the bed beside me, she hops up and I'm asleep again. I'm sure I've been asleep a few more hours when Prim wakes me. The female doctor is wheeling a cart of some sort into the room…no, it's not a cart. It's the incubator. I pick up something off the bed and chuck it at Haymitch who perk right up. "What's wrong?" He stands up.

I laugh at him.

"What?" he says.

"I just got a glimpse of the Haymitch I used to know," I wink.

"Oh yes, that totally wonderful human being that no one knows." He smiles.

Then he notices what I woke him for. We all stare as the nurse brings the incubator over. She is tiny. So very tiny. I could hold her in my hands easily. It's going to be a long road. But I've never been more willing to take it in my life. The doctor brings the incubator right over to the side of the bed. She's so beautiful. My baby. My daughter.

"Do you have a name picked out?" the doctor asks me. I only just realized that I hadn't actually thought about that.

"Willow," I blurt out.

"Willow?" the doctor asks. I nod. "Okay, then." She leaves the incubator by me and quickly goes from the room. Just as the door begins to shut my mother rushes in, fuming that she wasn't told anything, but Prim talks and calms her down and we all sit around the incubator taking it all in.

_My name is Katniss Everdeen Mellark. And I am a mother._

Nurses and doctors are coming in to check on her so often I tell them that they are more than welcome to stay if they want, but they give an obligatory, "I have to work," and leave the room. "Oh she'll do great!" say Haymitch. "She's got you and Peeta for parents." I smile at this just as the door swings open again. I'm expecting another doctor or nurse but I'm startled by what—or rather—who it is.

Gale is pushing in a wheelchair and locked onto it so he can't move, is Peeta.


	20. Chapter 20

"Peeta?" I choke out.

His face contorts in pain. "Katniss, are you okay?" He looks like he's going to burst into tears. I can hardly breathe right now. Seeing him here. Not crazed. Not calling me a mutt. I'm so overwhelmed with emotions that I start to cry. Tears are pouring from my eyes. All I can manage is a slight nod. Peeta relaxes in his chair, and then leans forward, "Don't do that to me!"

Everyone stops and stares at him. "Do what Peeta?" asks Haymitch.

"That," he jerks his head toward the hallway. "I don't ever want to see _that_ again." Then we all know what he's talking about. He saw me collapse and apparently no one has told him anything since. It seems like he didn't even know where Gale was taking him, I'm kind of relieved but at the same time…

"Well, it's not like I planned it!" I snap back.

"What happened Katniss?" his eyes are going everywhere.

"I just went into premature labor…" I say slowly.

"Why wouldn't they let me come?" he's crying and I'm crying. Great.

"Because they weren't sure if you were stable!" I'm yelling. Why am I yelling?

"I was screaming for you and they sedated me! I didn't know what was happening to you! Of course I wasn't stable!" he yelling too.

Everyone in the room seems to be following us back and forth and back and forth, Peeta to me, me to Peeta. Clearly no one knows whether they should interrupt, or not. Everyone is at a complete standstill. Part of me wishes that Haymitch would interrupt, but he's as anxious to see how this turns out as I am.

"Well, it's not like you've been exactly stable, Peeta!" I don't want to yell at him, but my emotions are so high that I seem incapable of doing anything but.

"How would you know?" he screams. "You left Katniss!"

"You called me a mutt!" I shout at him.

"That was the Capitol talking!" he just stops leans back and hangs his shoulders. "Was I that easy to give up on?" My heart shatters. I had given up on him. I'd just left him to his own devices. And I did leave. I left him.

"No," I choke on my own word. He couldn't be more right though. It was easier to give up on him than to try and recover him. I start to shake my head adamantly and then we're staring so intently into one another's eyes that I catch a glimpse of Peeta. The old Peeta. The one that told me to run in the first Games. The one who yelled at me in District Twelve for not telling him about Snow's visit and ultimatum. Almost, like the one who yelled my name in the Quell when we got separated.

"Then why did you leave?" he barely gets it out. Gale has walked him right up next to my bed and taken a seat near my feet so he's ready to jump between us if Peeta manages to break free of his restraints.

"I don't—know—" I really can't breathe.

"It's like you didn't—care—what haa—happened—to me!"

We are _so_ not okay right now. We're making great parents already. Parents! Oh my god, I'd completely forgotten. But that's what got us to where we are right now. I can't even look over at her. I can't take my eyes off Peeta, scared to death that he'll leave if I look away for even an instant. By leave I mean, replace the screaming Peeta who is mad at me for the right reasons with the Peeta who no longer thinks I'm human.

"I cared!" I hiccup on the last word. And my hand covers my mouth. "Of course, I ca—cared, Peeta!" I sigh trying to pull myself together. It doesn't work. "Why would you think I wouldn't?"

"Because you left…" both our eyes fall to the floor at this. His out of sadness, mine out of shame. As far as me loving him, I'm doing a downright awful job of showing it right now. "It's not that I don't love you, Katniss." He looks back up at me. "I'm just _so_ confused. I can't tell what's real and what's not real with some things."

"Then ask." Finnick has suddenly made an appearance. "That's what Annie does."

"You want me to ask about my own memories, Finnick?" he stares at him.

"Can you remember them?" he asks casually coming over to Willow's incubator. She's sound asleep. The machine tracking everything is beeping along with her pulse. She is an absolute miracle.

"No," his eyes follow Finnick to the incubator.

"Then ask," Finnick says simply. Then looking at me, "how you feeling, girl on fire?"

"I'm okay, thanks, Finnick." I smile at him.

He nods. "The doctors came and told me what happened."

"They told you?!" Prim, my mother, Gale, and Peeta all scream at him.

"Whoa!" says Finnick defensively. "I asked how her meeting with Peeta went and they told me what happened. So I came right over." His hands are in the air in front of him. Then he looks down at Willow. "She's beautiful!" He elongates the word. Everyone's eyes turn to her. "Definitely got her looks from her dad. That mom of hers needs some work." I smile, grab a free pillow and chuck it at him. Then he laughs. Everyone seems irritated by the friendly exchange between me, and Finnick, especially Peeta. I cast a wary glance at him and he smiles. "But I need to go find my wife!" Then he turns to leave, but before shutting the door hollers, "want a sugar cube?" and shuts the door. I smile and then looking at everyone, choke.

"What?" I ask. For some reason I feel guilty. But it was just Finnick.

"Well, don't you two seem chummy," says Peeta.

"Oh, Peeta," I look at him. "Really?"

"Really."

Momentarily forgetting that Gale is in the room, I look Peeta in the eyes. "Its only ever been you." Peeta smiles, but Gale immediately stands and wheels Peeta towards the door. "What are you doing?" I yell at him.

"Taking him back to his room," is all he says. I look at Haymitch who dashes over to Peeta and Gale and steps in front of the wheelchair. "Move, Haymitch." Gale threatens.

"No."

"Haymitch, get out of the way."

Haymitch points to Willow, "he's got more of a right to be in this room than you do!" Then he crosses his arms and stamps his foot in the ground. "Take him back to Katniss." Gale shakes his head. "No? Well than I will." He steps over by Gale and shoves him to the side taking the handles and wheeling Peeta back over by me. Gale spins and leaves the room.

"I should go talk to him," I try to move and Haymitch is there pushing me back down.

"Oh, no you won't." He smiles. "Don't make me get restraints for you, too."

"Haymitch…" Peeta starts. "I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"Peeta," he nods to me. "You were much kinder than she was."

"Yeah, but, that's Katniss. I let my anger get the better of me."

"Peeta," Haymitch says shaking his head. "No. Out of everyone, you two are the ones _I_ should be apologizing to. I lied to you both about the rebellion. In different ways I lied to you about keeping the other alive. No, Peeta. If anyone of us needs to apologize it's me. And I'm sorry."

Peeta looks at me, "where did Haymitch go?"

I smile, "they sobered him up."

"Ah," Peeta nods. "That explains a lot."

"Hey now!" says Haymitch defensively. "Not fair."

I just smile at him when Willow starts to cry. Everyone turns to watch her. Mercifully the nurse put the incubator right by my bed so I lean forward, with some effort, and place my hand inside the glove and rub her belly. She seems to calm at my touch. This is the first time I've touched her, and she is so precious. So unbelievably small. And so…wonderful. Then I feel almost a stab in my heart. "The rebels can't lose!" I shout startling everyone but Willow who seems to be just fine with my hand on her.

"Whoa, girl," says Haymitch stroking my arm.

"Reapings. I can't do that to her Haymitch!" I start crying. Well, I'm just not emotionally stable at all. But I can picture it because I've had so many nightmares about it.

_"Welcome, welcome," says Effie. "To the 87__th__ annual Hunger Games."_

_ Peeta and I stand still as statues. Scared beyond acknowledgement._

_ "Ladies first," Effie reaches into the bowl. Sighs heavily. "Willow Mellark."_

She'd never had a first name in my dreams, but I know she most certainly will tonight. I'm gasping for breath. Haymitch has put his arm around me and is rubbing my arm. "It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay. I'd never let them do that."

"But Haymitch, if the rebels lose…she'll be on the top of the Capitol's list…"

"Haymitch, is she okay?" Peeta asks.

"Oh, yeah, she'll be fine. This is actually her calm cry." He says. Prim and my mother both nod.

"What did Snow do to you?" he asks and a whole new round of sobs tear through me. I'm now holding onto my incision because it hurts so badly to cry. Not nearly as bad as it was last night, but still, it's pretty sore.

"He took you," says Haymitch plainly.

"Has she been like this the whole time?" his jaw drops…well I think it has, I can't see much of anything. And Willow has her tiny hand closed around my littlest finger, which serves only to make my tears more intense. Haymitch nods. Then he explains my mental meltdown while we were trying to film that propo.

"Her and Finnick both," he shrugs. "I'd wager the only reason they were somewhat coherent and, barely, in one piece is a credit to the other. No one quite understood what she was going through, but Finnick, and vise versa. Suppose that's how they got so close. Not because of a genuine affection, but because no one else could understand their struggles." He shrugs and then pauses, "and she'd just seen you beaten to a pulp on live television a couple nights before that." I nudge Haymitch. He'll know what I mean. "Oh, and Snow sent her roses, and your ring. Yup, she lost it entirely."

"She saw that?" his voice is so quiet.

"Yes, Peeta," says Haymitch. "She saw it."

"Wait," says Peeta. "You said my ring? My wedding ring?"

Haymitch nods and I nudge him with my elbow. Haymitch reaches and pulls the chain up over my head. And dangles it in front of Peeta. "See?" Haymitch pulls it up and twists it so he can read the inscription, "'girl on fire.'"

"Oh…" Peeta says nothing else for several minutes. "I remember Snow—personally—taking it from me. He said you threatened him about burning or something and came right up to me, pulled it off and left the room." He pauses and takes a deep breath, "I'd been relatively unharmed until then."

"Until then?" I sit up and stare at him. "Relatively?"

"You don't want to hear about it, Katniss." He says. "Trust me."

"Why not?" I push.

He shakes his head, "no. Katniss, just no."

"Peeta Mellark, you tell me right now what happened!" he stares at me puzzled.

"Okay…but I'm completely against this…" he starts, I nod and he recounts.

_Well the first thing I remember was them picking me up in the arena. They got Johanna and Enobaria too. We were tied in so tightly we couldn't move. They brought us to the Training Center and put us in our own rooms with guards and our previous Avox's. The first week was pretty easy, nothing happened. I was just there without you. My nightmares were terrible. There was no relief in anything. I'd dream you died, wake up crying, fall back asleep…and on and on and on._

_ Finally, I don't know how long I'd been there Snow came to see me. He gave me an ultimatum. He told me if I put forth the idea of a cease-fire that he would leave you alone. That you would be safe._

"Gale was right," I interrupt.

"About what?" he asks.

"You were still trying to protect me."

"That's what we do, Katniss. Protect each other." I nod and he continues.

_I agreed. So I went on the show with Caesar and defended you. Snow wasn't too much a fan of that though. Because I was presenting you as weak and naïve but because he knows you're not I just got in a lot of trouble._

"Meaning?" I interrupt again.

"They beat me, Katniss." He says as calmly as possible.

_I was reduced to one meal a day and it was meager. I finally understood what it must have been like for you growing up and not having anything to eat. I finally appreciated what it must have felt like to get that bread from me. And it made me feel even better that I had done it. But I was so hungry all the time._

_ The second time I was on the television I knew I looked worse than that first time, but I tried to act above it. That was when they started to use the tracker jacker venom. Snow himself told me…well the conversation went more like…_

_ Snow came in and there was already this icy smile on his face. "Peeta, Peeta, Peeta." Snow told me. "What were you thinking in there? What is it that the rebels have planned?" _

_ "I don't know!" I yelled at him. _

_ "Come now Peeta," Snow was trying to get under my skin, "you expect me to believe that?" _

_ "Yes! I didn't know anything! And neither did Katniss! No one told us anything about what was going on! If you're going to kill me, why don't you do it already. Katniss will be fine." _

_ "Oh, Peeta," Snow shakes his head, "No. She won't be fine." _

_ "What have you done to her?" I was almost certain that he had killed you._

_ "Nothing Peeta, we've done absolutely nothing to her. Couldn't even if we wanted to," then Snow smiles. "I'm sure she told you that she needed to convince me that she loved you?" _

_ "Yes, of course," I said, matter-of-factly. _

_ "Well, she did." _

_ I didn't need to ask for clarification. You'd convinced him, and I knew immediately that I was not going to be let go. Not until you actually died, or the Capitol won. Then he told me that they were going to make me forget you. Make me hate you. That venom does horrible things in large quantities. Initially I just kept seeing you die over and over and over again. They could have just kept doing that the whole time and I'd have been completely incapacitated. But they took it another step farther._

_ The started playing the videos from the Games._

"You went to get the medicine to save my life, right? That's real?" I nod.

_Over and over and over again they would play moments that I relived in my head all the time that I loved, and would inject me with some of the venom. I fought it for as long as I could, but I could feel myself slipping. I found myself hating you half the time, but whenever that happened I would hold my ring in my hand to try to ground myself, but as soon as Snow figured that out he made sure that I never saw it again. I guess I know where it ended up._

_ Then I was on with him. He threatened me, and I honestly don't remember how. But I was so conflicted, so unsure how I actually felt that I had to force the warning out of my mouth, and once I did…well I guess you saw what happened. Then I was out for a long time. I came to with Gale in front of me. I was sure I was hallucinating._

"Gale volunteered first," I tell him.

Peeta just looks at me, "he loves you, Katniss. Of course he would."

_Then I was waking up here. Confused, I saw you and the first thing I felt was relief, and then a sudden urge to kill you overtook me and I ran for you. I don't know what happened. But I felt horrible. When Delly came to visit, well, I don't even remember what happened…but they told me I called you a mutt. I asked what happened to you, both curious, and something else I can't explain._

"Katniss," he says slowly. "When they told me you left. I felt abandoned. Like the one person in the world that I thought cared about me…didn't. My memories were still muddled…they're still muddled now…" he gulped loudly, "half my dreams are still me trying to kill you. I can't shake that. But last night…when…something else overtook me. A feeling. An intense desire to protect, and I could do that because I was strapped to a bed. I called your name for a good hour before they knocked me out. It was agonizing Katniss."

"I'm going to kill him."

"What?" he looks at me quizzically.

"Snow. I'm going to kill him."

"Well, that's all well and good, but how are you going to do that?"

"I don't know," I mumble, "but I'm going to do it."

"Katniss…" he says slowly.

"Peeta?"

"I'm going to help." I don't even nod. We've just made a silent agreement. Snow has taken so much from us, and he's going to pay for it. For everything he's put us through since the first Reaping. For every single way that he has hurt us. Everything. Snow is going to pay for all of it.

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**_This chapter is significantly more AU than the rest of the story so far. The plotline will still follow the book more or less, but it does take a slightly diferent turn. Thank you for all the reviews up until this point, and any in the future. _**

**_Also Ashley, again for your wonderful opinions and friendship. Here's another chapter dedicated to you. :-)_**


	21. Chapter 21

After a little bit my mother and Prim choose to leave as they were getting really tired, Peeta pleaded with Haymitch to let him stay so Haymitch has fallen asleep in the chair yet again, but not before undoing the bindings on Peeta's arms. He decided Peeta was good enough to have at least those ones removed. His legs still tied down. It's almost like normal. Almost.

"Katniss?"

"Hm?" I look at him and he's got his arms tight around his arms. Then I understand. "Are you cold?"

"A bit yeah."

I twist as much as I can without hurting myself and grab my extra blanket. He wheels himself forward and I put it around his shoulders. I more or less have to drop it on him, as I'm probably two or three feet higher than him at the moment. I reach for the controls and lower the height of the bed.

Peeta rolls forward and grabs my left hand, "Katniss I'm so sorry."

This catches me off guard, but it's nice to have my hand in his. "What for?"

"For everything you've gone through." I take my right hand from the incubator and brush the hair off his forehead. "That I wasn't able to protect you." He nods toward Willow. "Both of you."

"Peeta…" I put a finger to his lips. "No. It's not your fault."

"I let them separate us!" he exclaims.

"That's as much my fault as it is your," I sigh. "Please don't blame yourself. We couldn't have argued it without causing some bit of unrest. Sure they kept you alive so that I would cooperate with them, but if we'd left… Well they all would have had a problem with that since they were supposed to protect us. I've heard just about everything Peeta. Trust me, there's a big enough list of people blaming themselves for what happened to you. Don't add your own name to that list."

"But, Katniss…" he begins again.

"Peeta, please. Don't." I meet his eyes and he stops automatically.

"So you're sure she's mine?" he asks, but in such a way that I'm not sure if he's joking or being serious.

"Yes, of course, she's yours." I sigh. "Do you doubt that?"

"Not really," he says. "It's one of those memories they couldn't tamper with because they had no footage. Just like the nights on the train, during and after the Victory Tour, the rooftop just before the Quell. They tried to take everything, but I forced some of them out of my consciousness once I realized how they were doing it."

"Oh," I say reaching around the bed and finding the ring that's still attached to the chain, and hand it to him. "This is yours. Thought you might like to have it back…maybe." He doesn't even nod, he takes it from my hand, breaks the chain and puts it right back where it should be. On his finger. Then he notices I'm still wearing mine.

"I'd have thought you would've taken them off…" he says tentatively.

"Well, from time to time I did," I start.

"Oh," he says.

"Not like that. It just helped me hold onto reality. Much like you said you did." I stoke his face. "I'd never take them off for good. They were the only thing—only reminder I had of you." He looks over at Willow.

"Not the same thing. I was technically holding her, but I couldn't _hold_ her. So I would hold onto the rings and squeeze them. It gave me some strange sense of comfort…briefly I didn't feel so—"

"Alone." He says, and I nod.

"Exactly."

Neither of us knows what to say for several minutes and in fact we both fall asleep. I wake up once or twice to see Peeta with his head down on the bed beside our hands. Willow asleep and still breathing, heart still working. I never thought I would see this ever again. A silent tear rolls down my face. How the hell did I get this lucky?

I manage to fall asleep again but I'm awoke with a jolt at Peeta screaming my name. I shake him away just as Haymitch shoots up to a standing position and falls on the floor from being so off balance. Peeta wakes and I turn to Haymitch, "You're losing your touch."

"I need alcohol, Katniss." He says flatly. "Maybe I should take Peeta back now. I'm not sure the doctors would be too okay with him being in here all night."

"Oh, Haymitch," says Peeta, groggily. "Just sit down and go back to sleep."

"Okay," says Haymitch and he's out like a light.

"Peeta," I coo. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just really tired."

"Okay," I say and fall back into unconsciousness. I'm awoke slightly by the sound of footsteps. Not sure if I should open my eyes or not I keep them shut. But I know Peeta has woken up because his head is no longer laying on the bed beside me. "What do you want?" he says. I don't have to even imagine who it might be. I already know. Gale.

"Can't I come visit Katniss?" he asks Peeta.

"No."

The authority in Peeta's voice strikes me. The stubbornness. The blatant refusal of Gale's company. I don't disagree so I just pretend to be asleep, and hoping that Peeta doesn't notice the difference. I think he can tell when I'm sleeping and when I'm not.

"Why don't you let Katniss decide that for herself?"

I can see clear as day Peeta's eyes narrowing at Gale, "sure this is just about visiting and not something else?"

"Why would you make that assumption?" Gale's irritated. Peeta's irritated. I'm irritated that they're irritated.

"Oh, I don't know," _sarcasm._ "Maybe the fact that you just tried to wheel me out of here earlier. Seems like a pretty good reason to me. I don't know, maybe I'm a little bothered that you still seem to have this affinity for going after Katniss. You kissed her before the Quell, didn't you?"

"What?" both Gale and I are confused and I'm so glad Gale asked.

"You kissed her before the Quell, in the woods, didn't you?"

"How would you know that?" Gale's voice is just a smidge higher.

"Katniss talks in her sleep sometimes." Peeta's certainly making up for lost time. I've never seen him this—well I've got my eyes closed—never known him to be this territorial before. Ever before. He's always loved me, I know that, but I've never seen him get this protective, and from Gale?

"But she talked about it then?" I can hear the smile in his voice.

Silently I squeeze Peeta's hand, he knows I'm up now just so he doesn't do something stupid and hit Gale or something.

"Are you so sure she even loves you, Peeta?" there's an invisible dagger in the way he says Peeta's name. "She's never said it, has she?"

"Did I mention, she _talks in her sleep_?" Peeta says resolutely. Borderline, smug.

"What does that even matter?" Gale says. He's fuming and I can tell.

"She's said she loves me, in her _sleep._"

"Yes, but that's in her sleep," Gale's huffing and puffing, much like that wolf in the really old story about some pigs or something else. "If she doesn't say it consciously it doesn't mean anything."

"And if she doesn't kiss you willingly, it doesn't mean anything." Peeta tries to pull away but I won't let him. "Trust me, I've had enough of both to know the difference."

"In the arenas?" Gale counters.

"How do you think she happened?" Peeta's talking about Willow.

"Don't get so high and mighty with me, Peeta Mellark."

"Is that a threat, Gale Hawthorne?"

"What would you say if it was?"

Okay, not I'm getting uncomfortable and worrying about both of them, I move and groan a little. The move is genuine, the groan is authentic. I haven't moved in a while and I can feel it. Instead of hoping to make myself more comfortable, I have become even more so uncomfortable.

"We'll talk about this later," says Gale as he storms out of the room.

I open my eyes and make eye contact with Peeta. "What was that all about?"

"Katniss, you were awake the whole time." He shakes his head. "You tell me."

"Get some sleep," I tell him. "You could probably use some."

"What about you?" he asks laying his head back on the bed.

"I'm going to keep an eye on Willow." I say, and then hastily add. "And the door so Gale doesn't decide to do something incredibly stupid."

"Katniss, why Willow?" he asks. "Not that I have a problem with it, I'm just curious."

"Because a willow tree is the most flexible tree that nothing can break—no wind, no elements, it can bend and withstand anything." I say. "And that's what I want out daughter to be.

"I like it," he says but his voice is barely audible since he's already mostly asleep.

I wake up the next morning to find my room completely empty of anyone besides myself. I fly into panic mode for so many reasons. One, Haymitch promised he'd stay with me till I told him to leave. Two, because Peeta's not here and I'm instantly terrified that Gale has gone and done something to him. And three, Willow isn't in the room either.

I toss my blankets away from me, yank on a robe and walk towards the door. I can't focus and I swear I'm going to fall, but I keep walking. I just barely make it to the door when it swings open. Peeta is no longer in a wheelchair but is on his feet. "Katniss!" he yells as he pulls me up into his arms and takes me back to the bed.

"Where is everyone? I woke up and you were all gone…why can't I focus on anything?" I grab his shirt collar in my hands, "What's going on Peeta? Where is everyone? What's happening? Is Willow okay? Where's Haymitch?"

"Shh," he sits by me. "Calm down, Katniss. Everyone is fine."

"Then where are they?"

"The doctors wanted to do some tests on her, Haymitch had a meeting in Command—"

"Should I be there?"

"They said they'd excuse you for today." Peeta says dismissively.

"What are they talking about?" I asks him frantically.

"Something about," then he mumbles the rest. "Going to the Capitol."

"Peeta! You have to take me there now!" I yell standing up again.

"No, Katniss sit down, please."

I grab his face in my hands pull it to my own and kiss him. Pulling away I say, "You have one of two options. One, don't take me to Command and you'll never get one of those again…and I'll walk myself there. Two, take me to Command and I won't not do that…and you can take me there."

"You're threatening me…by kissing me?" he's perplexed, but so am I. Whatever drugs they have me on right now, are doing something with my mind. I swear I'm going to collapse if I stand for more than two minutes.

"Yes!" I say pointing to a wheelchair. "Chair. Command. Now." He sighs but goes and grabs the chair and brings it over to me. I sit down. "Now hurry up."

"Katniss, I don't even know where I'm going." I point and mumble the different ways to get there when I see Johanna Mason. I briefly explain to her what's going on and we rush to the Command room.

"What do you mean, I'm not going to the Capitol? I have to go! I'm the Mockingjay!" I say. People glare between, Peeta and me. So I might have gotten him into trouble, especially since he hasn't been exactly cleared to be here.

"And as the Mockingjay, your primary goal is unifying the districts against the Capitol has been achieved. Don't worry—if it goes well, we'll fly you in for the surrender."

The surrender? What makes them think I just sit here silently?

"That'll be too late! I'll miss all the fighting. You need me—I'm the best shot you've got!" I shout. I don't usually brag about this, but it's got to be at least close to true, "Gale's going."

"Gale has shown up for training every day unless occupied with other approved duties. We feel confident he can manage himself in the field," says Coin. "How many training session do you estimate you've attended?"

None. But I find this fact unfair. I was pregnant. It's not like I could have done very much. "Well, sometimes I was hunting. And . . . I trained with Beetee down in Special Weaponry."

"It's not the same, Katniss," says Boggs. "We all know you're smart and brave and a good shot. But we need soldiers in the field. You don't know the first thing about executing orders, and you're not exactly at your physical peak."

"That didn't bother you when I was in Eight. Or Two, for that matter," I counter.

"You weren't originally authorized for combat in either case," says Plutarch, shooting me a look that signals I'm about to reveal too much.

"And both resulted in your injury," Boggs reminds me. Suddenly, I see myself through their eyes. A smallish seventeen-year-old girl who just had a baby. Is sitting in a wheelchair. Disheveled. Undisciplined. Recuperating. Not a soldier, but someone who needs to be looked after.

"But I have to go," I say.

They more or less give in and tell me I have three weeks to prepare myself. They give Peeta and Johanna this okay as well. "If the Assignment Board deems you fit, possibly your case will be reviewed."

After leaving Johanna blurts out, "I'm going to the stinking Capitol if I have to kill a crew and fly there myself."

"Probably best not to bring that up in training." I say. "But it's nice to know we'll have a ride."

Johanna grins and I have the slightest feeling that we've shifted more toward _allies_ that anything we've been in the past.

Soon thereafter Peeta, Johanna and I are granted a joint room. Willow is still under surveillance so Peeta and I go to visit her everyday. Peeta isn't the same as he used to be. There's something different with him, but he's here and not calling me a mutt or trying to kill me, so I'm okay with that.

Johanna and I are quizzing each other when I tell her, "I don't think I can do it."

"You can do it. We both can. We're victors, remember? We're the ones who can survive anything they throw at us," she snarls at me.

I suppose she has a point but that does not alleviate my concern. Peeta's done so well, I'm amazed that he never showed this kind of thing in the Games. But I also think that part of this is recent. Probably heavily based on the fact that his need to protect me (and Willow) is higher than ever before. It's like he refuses to let me be vulnerable. In some ways it's just like the Games. That being said, we are still each other's weaknesses.


	22. Chapter 22

_**This chapter is dedicated to Ashley and Skyla you two are amazing. Ashley, I'm so grateful for your friendship and your constant support and love for my story. And Skyla, always keep writing sweetie. :-)**_

_**Also, thank you SO SO SO much for the reviews for the last three chapters! You guys really are amazing! You've made going half-off canon not so terrifying...anyways...Chapter 22...**_

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Peeta got up extra early this morning to go spend a few hours with Willow, which was probably a good thing because Johanna just blurted out, "Haymitch says he's better."

"Yeah. But he's changed," I say.

"So have you. So have I. And Finnick and Haymitch and Beetee. Don't get me started on Annie Cresta. The arena messed us all up pretty good, don't you think? Or do you still feel like the girl who volunteered for your sister?" she asks me.

"No," I answer. I'm so much different than that Katniss Everdeen. All she had to worry about was getting food on the table for herself, her mother and Prim. Now, she's got a husband that's recovering from being held and hijacked by the Capitol, a fragile premature baby, and an entire rebellion looking to her. Yes, I'm nothing like that Katniss.

"That's the one thing I think my head doctor might be right about. There's no going back. So we might as well get on with things." She hops on the bed. "You're not afraid I'll kill you?"

"Like I couldn't take you," I answer. Then we laugh for a while.

After some intense running—Peeta finished his at least an hour ago, he's surprisingly in good physical condition whereas Johanna and I take twice as long—Johanna stops abruptly and turns to me. "I said we were victors, and we could survive anything they threw at us, right?"

"Right…" I drag the word out, not entirely sure why she asked in the first place.

"Well, right now, this running…I can't survive it." She punches me in the arm, though I think it might have been a tad bit harder than she meant. "How the hell is Peeta in better condition than we are?"

"I don't know about you…" I shake my head. "But I've been pregnant for the last few months. _And_ just had a baby."

"Right," she nods. "Forgot about that." We are given the okay to leave for lunch. "We all thought that was a ruse, you know?" We walk out into the hallway. "The pregnant thing—the baby—we honestly thought it was just Peeta's way of trying to stop the Games." She sighs as we turn down another hallway. "Finnick and I didn't realize…then he told me about Peeta dying." She shakes her head and punches yet another hallway we have to take. "You two have probably had is the worst of all of us. I mean Finnick was sold to people, so that's not great. They used Beetee's brain for, I don't even know what. They left me alone, but that's probably 'cause they thought I'd kill them—which I would. But you and Peeta," she punches her left palm with her right hand as we've run out of walls. "Snow forced you to fake it—" she shakes her head, "not _fake_ it, but I don't know, act like things were better than they were. Then sent you back to the arena."

"You were in that arena, too," I remind her.

"Yep. But it was different for me." She shrugs. "I was ready to die in there. Kind of what we all agreed to, but Finnick and I were given specific instructions from Haymitch to keep an eye on the two of you. The Careers killed a good half of us before the first day was done."

"You saved my life you know," I point out.

"Yeah, well that's what I was supposed to do." She punches the air in front of me. "I was supposed to make sure that you made it out of that arena. Haymitch said he'd kill us if any of us killed Peeta. Guess we finally understood why. I think he knew you loved him, before you did, to be honest. I think he knew before any of us did. Finnick and I certainly didn't." We're getting closer to the dining hall. "But, Peeta hit that force field and died…" she stops suddenly and turns me in her direction, hands on my shoulders. "Katniss, we didn't know what to do! We knew there was no way—_absolutely_—no way that you would leave that arena without him. You don't understand what it was like, Katniss. And those damn jabberjays! You and Finnick! Ugh! Love is the worst." She twists me forward so fast that I almost lose my balance. "Come on, we're gonna be late for lunch, and I'm hungry!" Suddenly she's walking so fast that I'm not sure if I should jog or run to keep up.

We make it to the dining hall—her at a brisk walk, me at a labored jog—and upon entering I can see Delly sitting across from Peeta. Flirting. As if she can anticipate…or knows me so much better than I'd have thought, Johanna grabs my right forearm—the one she cut in the Games—and says in a harsh whisper, "_Not_ worth it Katniss! There's nobody else Peeta would _ever_ let take your place. Like, not ever." Then she pulls my arm up. "Don't make me cut you again." I can't help it, what she just said makes me laugh at this. Everyone looks up at us, and I try to stifle my laughter but Johanna lifts my arm up. "I just told her I wasn't sorry about this. She really irritated me in the Games." Then I start laughing, because for some reason…I think we may have just breached the term _friend_ and I like the sound of that. "Come on, let's go get some food."

Together we walk towards the line and Peeta grabs my hand on the way, "Finally finish that run?" He's teasing.

"You try having a baby and then running five miles in an hour!" I stick my tongue out at him and then continue walking, but I can hear his laughter from behind me. As I turn around I almost run into Gale, and choke on my laughter. He soundlessly passes me but not before glaring down into my eyes. I've never seen those eyes so hardened and it almost makes me want to cry. I've hurt him, but it either would have been him or Peeta, and I just refuse to hurt Peeta anymore. I did that enough in the first Hunger Games—okay, more like after, he actually believed me throughout the Games—and throughout most of the time after that. I was a horrible person to have to be "engaged" to. I'm not even going to deny that. But Gale hates the Capitol so much, I just…_Peeta and I_ have more reason to hate the Capitol than he does. He hates them enough you could put me and Peeta—_together_—on the opposite side of a scale, and he would still probably weigh more than the two of us combined. I shake my head willing the thoughts away.

I've been so preoccupied that I didn't realize that I had grabbed a tray, it's only when Johanna is dropping food onto the plate that's mysteriously appeared as well, that I realize we'd even made it all the way there. Greasy Sae looks at me, "How's Willow doing today, Katniss? I was going to ask Peeta, but he was so quick that I didn't even realize he was in line till he was walking away."

I shrug. "I don't know, I haven't gotten an update yet myself." Then I see the worry on her face. Not sure if it's directed at me, or Peeta, or Willow…or if it's the whole tragic Mellark family. I don't know but I feel the need to add, "but I'll come tell you before I leave. Promise." She smiles at this and Johanna and I head back to the table. I notice that Gale has sat right by Peeta, and the only other available space is between Delly and Johanna—who seems to have made her way to the table while I was talking. I don't like the idea of Gale and Peeta being in the same room, let alone the same table, and definitely not the same bench. I sigh and do what I probably shouldn't, but I'm mad at Gale so I do it anyways.

I walk right over to Peeta, and as calmly as possi—_slam_—my tray on the table and force myself in between Peeta and the man to his right. The man is just about to protest when he realizes it's me and scoots down the bench to give me more room. As I look up I realize everyone is staring at me. Johanna is smiling though, apparently this is amusing to her. I guess it would be amusing to me, too, _if_ Gale hadn't taken my seat. Delly is staring at me with a weird expression on her face. She swallows loudly before saying, "Hello, Katniss. I trust training went well." She forces a smile, which looks more like a grimace.

Peeta wraps his arm around me, squeezes my shoulders and kisses my left temple, then whispers, "Whoa. Tone down that ice there, hun." Then he lets go of me and goes back to eating. I don't waste any time inhaling my food. As soon as I'm done I shove the tray away from me, and half turn to look at Peeta who is still eating.

"Well, that was fast," he says taking a bit of a roll and tossing it in his mouth.

"How's Willow?" I only just realize that I've grabbed his shoulder in my hands. I decide to release them, but he only pats them with his left hand so I leave them there. "Anything new? Is she doing any better? She's still breathing on her own, right? They would let me know if something was wrong wouldn't they? I mean, I'm her mother, it would be weird for them not to tell me something. Right? I mean, they wouldn't just leave me to worry forever? Wouldn't let me have a panic attack or any—"

"Oh my _god_, Katniss!" Johanna is shaking her head at me. "Breathe would you?" I only just now realize that I said all of that without taking a single breath, and obligingly breathe in and out. "Thank you! I didn't save you in that arena for you to die freaking out. If something was wrong, Peeta would tell you." She shakes her head and keeps eating her food, but before Peeta can answer she looks up again, but this time she's looking at Peeta. "How do you put up with this?" He laughs. But shoves the rest of his roll into his mouth and upon finishing it, turns to me.

"She's fine, Katniss."

"That's not—" he puts two fingers to my lips.

"What you asked. Yes, I know. I wasn't done." He shakes his head at me. "They doctors said that they can't explain why she's so healthy for being so small. She doesn't need a breathing tube, she doesn't need help with her heart…" he pauses.

"What?" I have a sinking feeling whatever it is has to do with me.

"They said they were…" he grabs my hands in his and looks into my eyes. Everyone is now looking at us. "Surprised she even made it. With all the stress and trauma you were under…well, they just didn't think she'd make it."

"'Make it,' as in?" I say slowly.

"'Make it' as in, alive at all." As if he knows what I'm going to do he releases my hands with his right hand—though the left still holds both of mine—and holds my chin up so I can't look down. "Katniss, no." He knows me so well, he knows what I'm thinking before I do, but then it hits me and I understand the 'no.' If my own mind had been faster I'd have gone straight to the armory and begged they let me shoot something. Which does sound pretty good. Then my head is shaking in his grasp along with his own head. "No." He looks at his arm. "Right." He kisses my forehead and gets up. "Got a meeting with Beetee in Special Defense. So I'll see you later. They cleared your schedule so you can go to the hospital for a few hours." He picks up his tray, takes a couple steps and then turns around, "I love you, Katniss." Then starts to walk away.

"I love you, too, Peeta." It's out my mouth before I have a chance to think about it. I've never said it before, and it registers because he stops. Turns around walks over to me, throws the tray on the table, takes my face in his hands and kisses me. I haven't kissed him since the arena. Come to think of it, that doesn't make any sense. But this kiss reminds me why I love Peeta in the first place. His kisses are so warm, and whole. There's no doubt that he puts his entire self into every single one. And for the first time, so do I. I temporarily—and him too—forget we're surrounded by many other people when Johanna clears her throat so loud it must have been her second or third time.

Peeta pulls away. Does one more light kiss and pulls both our trays off the table, walks to the trash, deposits the trash and puts the trays in a bin. Then glances at me one more time before leaving the room. I'm on, what's that term? Cloud nine? Well, whatever it is, my head is so far in the clouds it takes Johanna clearing her throat two, three, four? More times before I realize that I've been staring after Peeta. I shake myself back to reality and look at Johanna, Delly and Gale who are staring at me. Gale looks angrier than he did fifteen minutes ago. Which I suppose makes sense, that's the first time—aside from our wedding or reception—that he's seen Peeta and me kiss in person. And the fact that I just told Peeta I love him must hit a cord, because he gets up so quickly that the table is shoved about a foot away from us.

"Pretty sure _that_ blew your arena kiss out of the water," says Johanna offhandedly. My cheeks are hot and I can only imagine how red my face must be. I politely smile and get up. "You wanna come?" She must think I'm asking someone else because she looks around before pointing to herself. "Yeah, you."

"Really?" she's stopped eating, which is saying something. Johanna Mason doesn't stop eating till her food is gone and she steals something from someone else's food. Today Delly was the unlucky oblivious one. Delly's not bad, I just don't like the way that she was looking at Peeta. "You sure you want me to come?" Johanna asks.

"Mm-hm," I nod.

"Okay!" She jumps up and we both go to leave the room.

"Katniss…" Delly starts. Then I remember Greasy Sae. I know that's not why Delly is stopping me, but I immediately run over to Greasy Sae and tell her everything Peeta told me. She gave me a hug, and urged me to get back out and do some hunting. I told her I'd try. Best I can do for right now. Then Johanna and I turn to leave, but not before Delly says my name again.

"Can I come too, Katniss?" she asks.

"Maybe a little later," I say. Though I'd rather just say no, but she did defend me to the mad Peeta, so I guess I owe her for trying to help Peeta. Dear god, is there a person alive that _I don't owe something_?

At the hospital Johanna and I are greeted by a pair of doctors. "Ms. Everdeen," the man begins.

"It's Mellark, idiot," says Johanna and I make eye contact with her. "What? Didn't they watch the wedding? I know I did."

"Um, sorry," he apologizes. "Mrs. Mellark." He looks over at Johanna for confirmation, she nods and he continues. "Willow is doing quite well today. We're not sure how well she can take food, but we have a feeding tube in and she seems to be doing well with that. Her heartbeat and pulse are good and strong. Her breathing is unprecedented for her age. Frankly," he pauses. "We've never seen a healthier baby. You guys got lucky. Babies this young usually have a harder time. But I don't want to say she's out of the woods yet, but I can confidently say, that she is doing and progressing fine." The woman nods in agreement.

"Thank you," I say, as sweetly as possible.

"You can go right on in," says the woman punching in a code.

"Wait, her room is coded now?" I stare at them.

"Well, yes." She pauses. "The daughter of the Mockingjay, and two—_the_ two, star-crossed lovers from District Twelve—victors, kind of puts her at the top of our security list. We provided Mr. Mellark with all of the codes, so he should be able to fill you in. We also have a list of approved visitors."

"Add Johanna Mason to that list, please," I say.

The woman looks at me with concern, "um…I don't think…"

"Add Johanna Mason to the list," I say. "I won't ask again." Wow…um, okay, I surprised even myself with that hostility. Which is probably because aside from Peeta, my mother, and Prim—Gale kinda kicked himself off the list—Finnick, Haymitch, and Johanna are probably the people I trust most to have my back. And if I trust them to have mine, then I trust them to have hers. I clear my throat, "Sorry. Please add Johanna Mason to that list." They nod, neither wanting to try to talk me out of it, though they clearly disagree. Johanna is staring at me. "Come on," I say grabbing her hand and pulling her through the door.

Johanna and I spend several hours in the room with Willow, after I've held her for a solid two hours my arms start to feel stiff so Johanna holds her for an hour. There was shock and horror in her expression when I gave her the option, but she agreed and soon found that even though she strives to be tough, this was one time that she could relax.

After awhile she speaks up, "You know, those jabberjays would be a lot worse for me now." I look at her, I'd been watching Willow for several minutes and neglected to see her staring at me. "Because I would hear voices this time, I think." She pauses for quite awhile. "Well, at least yours, Finnick's, and especially Peeta's."

"Why especially Peeta's?" I'm not upset, just curious.

"In the Capitol," she begins, then steps up and puts Willow back in my arms. "You might want to hold her for this next bit." Then she takes a seat again. "In the Capitol, Katniss, I've never felt so alone, so unimportant—not that I ever considered myself important…but, I've never been so hated." She pulls her knees up so her feet are resting on the edge of the chair, her head resting on her knees and her arms wrapped around her legs. "As victors, Katniss, we've seen some pretty bad things. Our bad dreams are the nightmares of others, and our nightmares are from horror stories. Did he ever tell you what most of his nightmares are about?"

"Losing me," I say.

"Right, and you?"

"Losing people I love, and the Games, over and over again."

"Exactly," she looks at the ground. "But we were always able to wake up from them. The Capitol was able to determine, where those dreams are located…" she hesitates. "Peeta saw you die, over and over, and over and over again. Night after night. I heard your name screamed more than anything else. Snow didn't want to just hurt you Katniss. He wanted to hurt Peeta too. If he could hurt Peeta that was easy enough, but to hurt you…he realized he had to hurt Peeta. To hurt Peeta, was to hurt you. And Peeta would have eaten those berries too, Katniss. He was—in the eyes of Snow—as much…okay not _as much_…but a part of the rebellion too. He tried to give money to Rue and Thresh's families."

"Because I didn't tell him beforehand about Snow's visit," I say.

"That's just it Katniss. He did it without knowing he could get in trouble, or knowing he could and brushing it off. To him you were both reckless. Not to mention when you went to intercede for Gale's whipping," she says. I'm propelled back in time. Just another time I'd taken Peeta for granted. "Peeta came to your defense right away didn't he? Or soon after, right?" I nod. "Yeah, see…Peeta would have done—probably still would—do anything for you Katniss, and Snow knows that." She sighs heavily. "He told Peeta over and over again that he was going to take you from him. But not by killing you…by destroying his memory of you. By destroying his love for you."

"Well, that worked great." I say through my teeth.

"See, that's just it." She points at me. "I think the trauma of seeing you in pain snapped him out of it. Not some weird, 'love's first kiss' bullshit, but just that love, his love for you replaced his hate for you as soon as he saw you in pain. I could hear him screaming here and there, and here it was a different scream. It was like in the arena when Peeta and I were stuck in the other wedge when you blew out the force field." So I was right. "I don't think Peeta would have been lost to you forever…but I don't think he would have been the same. In some strange way his real life nightmare brought him to his senses, and he was terrified he'd lose you." She shrugs. "I don't understand it, Katniss. Love." She's looking at Willow now, "It's such an inconvenience." Her voice trails off.

"You want to hold her again?" I ask.

She shakes her head, "actually, I'm really tired. I think I'll go lay down."

"Okay," I say.

Johanna gets up from her chair, walks over to me and Willow, plants a little kiss on her tiny forehead and says, "You've got some pretty crazy parents here kiddo. But I can promise you, no one will ever love you more than they do."


	23. Chapter 23

I'm not sure how long I've been asleep but I hear the door open and my arm reflexively tightens around Willow, but I'm too tired, too exhausted to move. But I hear two sets of footprints and am getting a little worried when I peek ever so slightly and see Peeta and Delly. I close my eyes again because I'm…well, 'cause I can't think straight, but I know we'll be fine as long as Peeta's here.

"She's tiny," says Delly.

"Katniss?" he jokes. I know the tone.

"No, Willow." She says.

"Yes she certainly is," says Peeta. The two walk over in our direction.

"Can I hold her?" she asks him.

"Um, I wouldn't even dare take her from Katniss while she's sleeping," I can picture him shaking his head. "No, we'll just let Katniss hang onto her. She couldn't be in better hands." I can hear the smile in his voice.

"She could be in yours…" says Delly, timidly.

"Nah," I can hear him walk over to me. He brushes the hair off my face and kisses my forehead and then rubs Willow's back. "I think she's in the perfect hands. Apparently, Johanna got added to the list. Kind of surprised me, but if Katniss says she's okay, then I agree."

"Peeta?" Delly asks. "Why Katniss?"

_Come again?_ I'd planned on falling back asleep, but now I'm fully alert, but wouldn't dare letting on. I want to know what he says, but at the same time, I don't like that she asked it, or the manner in which the question was asked. She's not just asking why Willow's safety is important to me…she's asking why Peeta _chose_ me. And that is what I don't like.

"What?" he asks. He sounds as surprised, if not more, than I am.

"Why Katniss?" she starts again. "I mean, sure she was super cool and all of us girls wanted to be able to shoot like her, and have Gale," she hesitates. "But she could have had anyone, we really thought she'd chosen him before the Games…and she wasn't believable in the Games. She only acted the whole time."

"No," says Peeta curtly. "She didn't act the whole time."

"How do you know?" she counters. "How do you know she's not still acting?"

"You know, Katniss, right?" I'm assuming she nods because he continues. "Remember how we spent a lot of time together during the Victory Tour or in the Capitol, or after we got _married_?"

"She didn't want to get married."

"No," he admits and there's some hurt in his voice. "But we did. I don't know, something changed when we got married…something I can't explain, but for once…it was like we were a team. Not just because we needed to survive one thing or the other, but because we chose to be. We chose to spend time together. There were choices that she made after we got married, that I had no bearings on at all. Trust me Delly, Katniss Everdeen, is the last person who would ever do something completely against her will. Maybe that's why I chose Katniss. Because despite everything she put me through I could still count on her to show how she felt in one way or another. She _was_ pregnant before the arena, though most people believed it to be a hoax. I didn't realize just how much she loved me until that beach. Yes, she sobbed when I died…but on that beach in that arena, when I told her that no one needs me," he sighs. "That's what I really thought, Delly. That even Katniss would be able to go on without me, that only one of us needed the other…that I needed her," he pauses. "That I could only be happy with her. But she turned to me and said _she_ needed me. Don't you understand what she did there Delly?"

"No…" she says slowly.

"For the first time, ever. Katniss was being honest with herself." He squats down beside me and starts rubbing Willows back. "She refused to acknowledge that her family needed her…because for once, she needed someone. She needed me. I never questioned picking Katniss…choosing Katniss, not because I would have died without her—I was ready to die _for_ her—in both arena's and actually did in the second, because…well, because of all the people in this world, she needs me. That might not make any sense, but knowing she needed me, that she was choosing to save me over anyone else…she didn't want to have to live without me. And I didn't want to have to live without her. I guess that's why we probably would have killed everyone and done something stupid, like Romeo and Juliet out. Neither of us was planning on leaving that arena." He sighs and stands back up. "And we both would have probably turned homicidal if someone did kill the other. It probably would have been the most memorable Games, because Katniss and I would have lost our minds. Because there really are some people, you just can't live without."

"We were so close though, Peeta," says Delly. "For so long, but you chose Katniss…and she'd chosen Gale, so what made you so special in her eyes, that she chose you over him?"

"That," says Peeta. "Is something I myself would like to know."

"Oh."

The two of them are silent for a while when Delly notices the time and says she needs to get back to something, or bed, or something. It was all kind of mumbled. And she left the room. Peeta walks over to me and brushes my cheek, "didn't want to chime in there at all?" Of course he's asking me, and of course he knows when I'm fake sleeping, well, really worn out.

I open my eyes, "you're really hard to fool."

"Thank you," he says smugly.

"Why'd you bring her in here anyways?"

"She said you told her she could," he says pulling the other chair in front of me, and sitting down, smiling at me. "So you love me, do you?"

I smile and shake my head.

"Right," he laughs, "so when did you figure that out?"

"I guess you kind of just grew on me," I stand up and put Willow in his arms.

"That's not what I asked," he shakes his head and adjust Willow so she's on her stomach and laying on his chest. Her head where mine has always been the most comforted. I guess I'll have to share it now. That thought hadn't even occurred to me until this moment.

"Oh, I don't know," I sit back down. Looking at Willow I force myself to answer, "When you volunteered for Haymitch in the reaping. Well, it wasn't a definite feeling at that time, but my heart ached. I…well, I don't know how to explain what I felt then, and so much has happened since that I really couldn't tell you."

"So when did you know for sure?"

"When Gale kissed me before the Quell." _Oh my god_. My hands fly up to my mouth. Well, that's just great. At least he can't run from the room right now because he's holding Willow.

"_What_?" I had expected this, but well, I'd never actually wanted to tell him.

"Ah...um…" I have no idea what to say.

"He. _Kissed you. Before_. The Quell?" I'm having a hard time meeting his gaze. I don't feel guilty, because I didn't kiss him. "Did you kiss him back?"

"_No._" I shake my head and lean forward in my chair. "No."

"Did you slap him?" he's getting more and more upset, and I can tell.

"I didn't have the energy to," I say. "I was still getting used to the whole being pregnant thing that all I could think was getting out of there."

"There where?" his eyes narrow. He'd told me to stay out of the meadow, and by going then I had blatantly ignored that. I am digging myself quite the hole right now. I could bury myself in it…and that's exactly what I want to do.

"The meadow…" I mumble. "The day of the reaping."

"The day of the reaping?" he sighs. "Katniss I told you to stay out of there!"

"We were going back to the arena," I counter. "I needed practice."

"But—" he protests.

I lean forward until our lips meet. This tactic has always worked before, and I'm just hoping it will work again. And I'm surprised to find that it does. He reaches his hand up and pulls the back of my neck forward. I don't know how long we stay like this but Willow starts to cry so I let go of his face—which I didn't know I was holding—I swear my brain takes a vacation from me whenever Peeta kisses me…not that I have a problem with that. Peeta hands her back to me and I sit down. I start singing _The Hanging Tree_ to her.

"If there were birds…" he smiles. "They would stop singing to listen to you."

I'm rocking Willow back and forth and she falls back asleep before the final verse is even sung. The I look at Peeta, "When you were in the Capitol…they wanted me to sing for one of the propos. And I noticed it. They did stop to listen."

"See?" he says. "I told you."

"Yes you did." I smile at him and then the door opens. Prim enters.

"If you two want to go get some sleep," she says making her way over beside me. "I can watch Willow for a bit."

"Well…" I start, but Peeta interrupts.

"That sounds wonderful." He says. "Come on Katniss, those chairs are only so comfortable for so long." I know that's true, so I stand up and hand Willow to Prim. And Peeta grabs my elbow towards the door.

"Oh, Prim," I turn to her. "If Johanna Mason comes in at all, she's okay. She can hold her." Prim nods and Peeta pulls me out the door, but not before I get a quick, "Thank you," out to Prim. Just as we get through the door we're standing hands entwined and facing President Coin.

"Peeta, Katniss," she says emotionless and expressionless.

"Yes?" he asks.

"We'd like you two to do a propo," she crosses her arms. "To show that you're back together and that Peeta's better, and you're not pregnant anymore." Peeta and I glance at each other. Peeta asks what kind of propo she has in mind. "Nothing to big, just you two working together doing something to show you support the rebel efforts. That despite all the Mockingjay and Peeta has gone through, and you're still together. Still a team. Still love each other."

"What exactly are you asking us to do, President Coin?" Peeta gets right to it.

"Maybe showcase you and the other victors, with a little more focus on the two of you."

"Just like before," I mumble to Peeta. He squeezes my hand.

"Are Finnick, Beetee and Johanna—assuming not Annie—okay with that idea?"

"They said they would all do it," she sighs. "If Katniss does it."

Peeta nods as if anticipating this answer and then turns to me, "Katniss?"

"Fine," I say. "But if I don't like what we're doing, I get to make the call."

"Remember that deal you made with me?" her eyes narrow.

"Yes." I say plainly.

"Good," she says. "So we'll see you both, bright and early."

I nod and she leaves.

Peeta turns to me, "what deal Katniss?"

"I promised to be the Mockingjay…" I sigh. "If they gave you and the other victors that were held in the Capitol…immunity. Without trial. So they couldn't hold anything Snow made you say against you."

"They would have tried me?" he asks.

"Without hesitation." I say. But that seems to be the end of that discussion because Peeta and I walk silently back to our shared room with Johanna, who is twitching more than normal, so I tell Peeta to go change and I'll be over in a minute. He agrees and I walk over to Johanna, only to see she's been crying in her sleep. I've never seen her cry before, she's always so stoic. So I shake her awake. "Johanna, are you okay?"

She looks at me, and I've never seen those eyes so sad. She shakes her head. So I pull her into an embrace. She mumbles, "you tell anyone about this, and I _will _kill you." I laugh a little and promise not to say a word. After a few minutes she falls back asleep and I lay her back down gently and pull her blankets up over her shoulders since she's been shivering. Then get up, change and go to my own bed. Peeta is already sound asleep, so I climb into it as soundlessly as possible, but Peeta notices and pulls me into his arms. I will never take this for granted again.

In the morning we're startled away by Johanna jumping on the end of our bed. "You'd better get up you two. Coin won't be very happy if we're late and you know that. So up, up, up. Let's go." Peeta and I get up and do exactly as Johanna says and all make it down to breakfast just in time for the last twenty minutes.


	24. Chapter 24

_**Just as a forewarning, I start school back up on Monday, January 13th so my updates may slow down a bit as I'm taking three English classes...yeah, don't ask why 'cause I still don't know.**_

_**Anyways, without further ado, Chapter 24...**_

* * *

Breakfast is quite uneventful as is the rest of the day. Our meeting with Coin was moved to tomorrow since Johanna, Peeta and I have our final combat ready tests. When those are over we're all assigned to squad 451. Which we find out is Boggs' squad. Which is absolutely wonderful. After training I convince Plutarch to let me out to go hunting. He reluctantly agrees. Peeta wants to come too, but he knows that he's too loud and resigns to stay with Willow for that amount of time. When I get to the woods Gale is already there. He tries to talk, but eventually we—_I_—decide on just hunting and _no_ communication at all. He doesn't know that Peeta knows, and I'd prefer to keep it that way.

After hunting I spend the remaining hours of the day in the hospital with Peeta and Willow, and Johanna who comes in. "Hey, you two…" she starts and slowly walks over to us—Willow is in Peeta's arms—and then stops beside my chair. "Could I hold her for a bit?"

Peeta and I glance at each other, "Yeah." Says Peeta, apparently surprised. "I think I'll head to bed anyways. I've been here for five hours and could probably use some sleep."

"Okay," I say.

He stands up and Johanna takes his seat, and then he puts Willow into her arms. Smiles down at them, and walks over to me. "I'll see you later," he says before kissing me and leaving the room. But before the door has closed he stops and turns, "at midnight."

"Not funny."

He smiles anyways and leaves the room.

"Johanna," I wait till she looks up at me. She's grown quite fond of Willow, and I can't explain why that makes me so comfortable. "Haymitch told me once that there are no winners of the Games, only—"

"Survivors," he finishes walking in the door. "Glad to know something's stuck."

"Well, you've certainly been MIA, lately," I say.

"Been helping Plutarch with some…" he pauses, "highly important stuff."

"Okay…" I say warily.

"Where's the boy?" he asks gesturing around the room.

"Went to bed," I tell him.

"What'd he go and do that for?" Haymitch asks crossing his arms.

"He's tired."

"Ah, yes, sleep." He shakes his head. "Something I don't know a lot about." He nods at Johanna, acknowledging that she's here, then looks back at me. "I can stay and keep Johanna company for a bit if you want to go to bed early." He winks at me. I don't know why but this makes me incredibly uncomfortable.

"Well, I'll go to bed early," I stand up still trying to process what he said. "But only because I'm tired."

"Come on, sweetheart, you have a baby." He smiles. And I don't know why but this makes me so uncomfortable I kiss Willow quickly and leave. Willow's in good hands with them.

I get back to our room and find Peeta sound asleep. I don't even bother changing and climb right into bed with him. This time he doesn't notice, and I don't blame him. Today was exhausting.

The next morning, Peeta, Johanna and I are finishing our breakfast when Gale comes over to the table. "Katniss," he says. I turn around so I'm looking at him. "They need all of us all in Command as soon as you guys are done eating."

"Okay," I say turning back to my food.

"Katniss," he says again and I face him again. "Can we talk?"

I don't even look at Peeta, because I know for a fact what his face is going to be doing. He's not going to like it and I'm confident that he won't like my answer at all. "Sure," I say and out of the corner of my eye I can see Peeta's shoulders stiffen. "But not right now. Sometime later, maybe."

"Okay," he says and leaves.

I turn back to finish my food and when Peeta opens his mouth I look at him, "Don't even start." He tilts his head and twists to face me, and hoists his left arm on the table. "What?" I say before quickly following it up with, "Don't look at me like that." I stand up grab my tray and throw it all in the trash, for the moment I don't care. I'm just sick and tired of Peeta and Gale trying to do whatever weird male thing they're doing, and it's driving me crazy. Can't they just coexist? What's so hard with that?

I make it to Command and lean against the wall between Haymitch and Beetee. So neither, Peeta or Gale can try and stand by me. "Is someone in trouble?" Haymitch asks.

"Yes," I nod. "Both of them."

Haymitch laughs, "Whatever you say, sweetheart."

A few minutes later Gale, Peeta, and Johanna enter the room. Gale and Johanna stand against the other wall across from me. Peeta making eye contact with me knows I'm not happy with him, but he gives Haymitch some sort of look and Haymitch moves over. I send him a glare and he just smiles. Johanna catches my eye, glances at Peeta, makes eye contact with me again and laughs.

In addition Gale, Peeta, Johanna, Finnick, Beetee, Haymitch, Coin and myself my entire propo team is here, my prep team, and Boggs are here also. Basically the room is unusually crowded. Coin looks more than a little irritated.

"We just waiting on, Plutarch then?" I finally ask.

"Yes," she sighs. "He had to run a small errand for me. I thought he'd be back by now."

"Could I talk about the propo then?" asks Cressida. Peeta's looking around the room confused.

"Sure, why not," says Coin flatly.

Cressida explains this whole elaborate plan about Peeta and I mysteriously finding each other and then act like we haven't seen each other in months, to which we both said, "No." She argued that it would be great for the rebels to see because they would see that our love was so strong it could overcome the Capitol just by seeing each other—"No." Maybe something with Willow? "Absolutely not." Peeta and I are starting to run out of patience with her when Plutarch finally enters the room.

"Don't say a single word, Katniss." My jaw drops as he walks over to where Coin is standing. "Okay, lets get this show on the road." We straighten up and wait. Plutarch stands over a wide, flat panel in the center of the table. He's explaining something about the nature of what we will encounter in the Capitol. I'm thinking this is a terrible presentation — because even on tiptoe I can't see what's on the panel — until he hits a button. A holographic image of a block of the Capitol projects into the air.

"This, for example, is the area surrounding one of the Peacekeepers' barracks. Not unimportant, but not the most crucial of targets, and yet look." Plutarch enters some sort of code on a keyboard, and lights begin to flash. They're in an assortment of colors and blink at different speeds. "Each light is called a pod. It represents a different obstacle, the nature of which could be anything from a bomb to a band of mutts. Make no mistake, whatever it contains is designed to either trap or kill you. Some have been in place since the Dark Days, others developed over the years. To be honest, I created a fair number myself. This program, which one of our people absconded with when we left the Capitol, is our most recent information. They don't know we have it. But even so, it's likely that new pods have been activated in the last few months. This is what you will face."

I'm unaware that my feet are moving to the table until I'm inches from the holograph. My hand reaches in and cups a rapidly blinking green light.

Someone joins me, his body tense. Peeta, of course. And then Johanna and Finnick are at our side, Haymitch and Beetee wide eyed. Because only a victor would see what I see so immediately. The arena. Laced with pods controlled by Gamemakers. Finnick's fingers caress a steady red glow over a doorway. "Ladies and gentlemen . . ."

His voice is quiet, but mine rings through the room. "Let the Seventy-sixth Hunger Games begin!"

I laugh. Quickly. Before anyone has time to register what lies beneath the words I have just uttered. Before eyebrows are raised, objections are uttered, two and two are put together, and the solution is that I should be kept as far away from the Capitol as possible. Because an angry, independently thinking victor with a layer of psychological scar tissue too thick to penetrate is maybe the last person you want on your squad.

"I don't even know why you bothered to put Finnick, Johanna, Peeta and me through training, Plutarch," I say.

"Yeah, we're already the best-equipped soldiers you have," Finnick adds cockily.

"Do not think that fact escapes me," he says with an impatient wave. "Now back in line, Soldiers…Mellark, Mellark, Abernathy…everyone. I have a presentation to finish."

Plutarch explains the mission. We'll be in combat…ish. It arrives at some protest but eventually we all agree, knowing this is the only way that we'll get _anywhere_ near the Capitol. We're all in Boggs' squad, which means we'll be spending an exuberant amount of time together, which means Gale and Peeta in close proximity for long period of time. I'd been forced to do everything between them as Johanna said, "_Oh, hell no! You're not leaving me to deal with all of their shit!_" So I haven't, though it's definitely been a challenge. There hasn't been a single day where I haven't considered shooting both of them. Thankfully I never get far enough in that plan to even point a gun at them, but sometimes…ooh, what I wouldn't give for my own personal jail so I could stick them each on time out.

The meeting finishes and Finnick and I are the first out of the room, followed by everyone else. "What am I going to tell Annie?" he asks, frantic.

"Nothing," I say. "You don't need to worry her. You'll come home Finnick, I promise."

"Katniss," he says plainly, "you know how dangerous it is. All of us victors do. Annie would know too."

"That's why you don't tell her, Finnick." I shake my head. "She doesn't need to know how bad it is Finnick. Especially in her condition." We all were recently told, well Peeta, Johanna and I…I'm not sure if they told anyone else. "Trust me, Finnick. It's not a good place to be, or feeling to have. She already knows the mission to the Capitol will be difficult and dangerous, just leave it like that. She doesn't need to know there is an arena set up." I put my hands on his shoulders, "Finnick…" then I don't know what to say.

"Alright, Katniss," he nods and walks away.

Peeta comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. "Hey, want a sugar cube?" He meant to say this all quietly but Finnick hears him.

"Hey, now. That's my pick up line!"

"You were trying to pick her up?" Peeta asks surprised.

"Good grief, Peeta," Finnick shakes his head. "Never." Then he is gone and Gale is standing beside me.

"Katniss, can we talk?" he asks.

"Yup," I say pulling Peeta's arms from around me, and walking immediately away from Peeta. I hear Peeta try to follow but I also hear Johanna's voice. Which whatever it was she said, must have caused Peeta to stop.

"What's up?" I ask, not sure what to say.

"I just need to talk to you," is all he says for about ten minutes of walking. Finally I stop and turn him towards me. He can't just say he wants to talk and then, just not talk. That's not how talking works.

"What's going on Gale?" I ask crossing my arms.

"Why Peeta?" he asks.

Good grief, it's my version of Peeta's conversation with Delly. I guess, I shouldn't be surprised, but it still bothers me. If I'd chosen Gale, Peeta would have probably wondered, but I don't know if he would have flat out asked…then again, hijacked Peeta asked about Gale…so who even knows. Neither of them will ever be fully happy. Even Peeta had an issue with me just talking to Gale. Whoo, these boys need to grow up.

"Why Peeta?" he asks again, pulling me back to reality.

"Can't you just accept it and move on?" I ask, irritated.

"No." he says curtly. "Not until you tell me why."

"I don't know…" I say shaking my head. "He just grew on me. I think I loved him a lot longer than I thought I did. How long? I don't know. Peeta is so good. He is the best person I know. I put him through hell, well, both of you I guess. But he was always there. We went to those arenas, together. That solidifies a bond that I don't think I could have experienced with anyone else. Sure we had the hunting, and that's great, I still love hunting. But in those arenas, Gale, you don't know what it was like. Every moment you're worried that someone you care about is going to die—"

"Katniss, you were ready to let everyone else die the second time around," he interrupts. "Yourself even. You were willing to give everything up for Peeta to come back. He told you that your family needed you, you were _pregnant_, but you were still willing to sacrifice yourself for him. Why?" he's almost shouting.

"Because I couldn't bear the thought of having to live without him!" I shout back. I hadn't intended to yell, but it just came out. I couldn't imagine my life without Peeta. He died once in that arena, and I lost my will for anything. Nothing else mattered to me at that point. For the first time I _felt_ and _saw_ what it would be like—what _I_ would be like—without Peeta and that was just something I couldn't—can't—live with. I can't live without Peeta, I just can't.

"I should have gone to the Games with you," he says. "I should have volunteered for him!"

"No," I shake my head. "It had to be this way. This had to happen. It _had_ to be Peeta."

"Why did it 'have' to be Peeta?" he's shaking in frustration and his hands are balled into fists.

"It just had to, Gale."

"Because you wouldn't mind killing me in the arena?" he asks harshly.

"I don't know!" I yell. "It was a 'you had to be there' kind of situation! I was scared to lose him in that first arena, and I didn't like it then anymore than I do now. I tried so hard to save him, went and risked my life to get that medicine, and I'd have hated myself forever if he died in that arena! You watched the Games. He watched me that whole night I was treed."

"He fell asleep," he interjects.

"Yes," I admit. "But he fought off Cato so I could get away. And he was willing to let himself die so that I could come home."

"He told you in the arena, that you were his whole life, that he'd never be happy again if he went home, and you died," he pauses. "But you were still willing to do that to him!"

This hits me like a train. I was. I was going to let myself die so that Peeta could home…but to what? What would he have to come home to? A family that didn't need him. A house full a memories to live in alone. Would he have married again? I would have taken everything from him just like… "I…" I don't know what to say. "He…" My eyes are fixated firmly on the ground before me. "I couldn't…" I shake my head. "He wouldn't…" None of my thoughts are connecting. Its like my whole train of resolve from the arena is dissolving around me. I _was_ so focused on not leaving myself alone, of admitting that I needed _him_ that I neglected to even think about what he'd said fully. "I'm horrible." Is all I can manage to get out.

Gale pulls me into his arms, and I shove him off defensively. "No." I back away. "Stop! Just stop doing that, all the time! What makes you think that is okay? You just asked me why I _chose_ Peeta, and then you try and hold me! How is that okay? It's like kissing me before the Games! I told Peeta, and you know what he didn't do?" My voice is rising in volume and pitch and I don't even care. "Find you and do something that you'd probably deserve! And why not?" I don't even know what's happening and then I slap him across the face. "_Because I asked him not to_!" I don't wait for him to say anything and just run away. Now I really need to go shoot something. I'm trying to decide whether or not to tell Peeta when I round a corner, run right into him and we both fall on the ground. I don't even realize I'm shaking till I stand up and Peeta speaks.

"What happened!?" he's almost yelling.

"He—I—this—" I'm crying. "Peeta I'm so sorry!" Then I crumple to the floor.

He sits down against the wall and pulls me into his arms. "For what?"

"For being so selfish in the arena!" I'm still kind of yelling. Not at him, more like I'm yelling at myself. I've done some pretty lousy things to him since the first Games, but none were quite so low as this one.

"Katniss, what is going on?" he asks rubbing my back. "Selfish, how?"

"Trying to save you!" I hiccup.

"If that's why you're saying you're selfish," he sighs. "Then I was being selfish, too."

"No," I shake my head.

"Katniss, I tried to guilt trip you." He shakes his head. "I knew ten minutes into the arena what your plan was. You were trying to hard to watch my back. If it had come right down to it…if there were three people left, and you and I being two of them…" he sighs. "I would have done whatever it took to get you home…even if it meant killing myself. You said it yourself, they'd never make the same mistake twice. We'd never have both made it out of the Games, even if we'd known about the rebellion."

"But Peeta—" he puts two fingers to my lips and simply says, "shh." And I stop trying to talk and instead cry into his shirt until there are no more tears to cry. He keeps rubbing my back and saying soothing things in my ear—well, I think they're soothing, I can't really make out what he's saying. Once I've stopped crying and calmed down he asks, "What did Gale want?" If I'd thought for a moment he wouldn't ask, I'd have been very very wrong. Of course he's going to ask.

"Nothing," I say dismissively.

"Katniss," he pulls me back from him and I try to look away. He pulls my face forward. "What did Gale want?"

"To talk," I say.

"About?"

"Things," I answer.

"What kind of 'things,' Katniss?" he's getting annoyed and I don't blame him.

"Stuff."

"Katniss!"

"What?" I try to ask innocently, does not happen.

"What did he want?" he huffs. "Or do I have to go ask him myself?" Then he stands up resolutely. "Better yet," he takes a step forward. "I think I'll just go and ask him myself…in person!" And he's gone. I've _never_ seen Peeta walk that fast with that leg, come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen him walk that fast…period. I scramble up to my feet and nearly fall over. All that crying has left my legs relatively useless. But I propel myself forward anyways. If Peeta's going to go hit Gale, I kind of want to see it. Is that bad?


	25. Chapter 25

_**Thank you for the reviews! K-Chan's Kisses in particular! :-) But I realize some of you thought that me being busy with school translated to giving up on this story, and I can assure you I will **_**never****_ give up on it. The chapters will just not come as quickly. But I've written 25 Chapters in 11 days, so that's pretty good. You'll just have to endure cliffhangers a little longer. ;-) Thank you all for your interest! There are at least 800 regular readers and that makes me unbelievably happy, thank you for taking so much time to read and keep up with this story! I love you all!_**** :-)**

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"Peeta!" I take off after him, but he's—_he's _?—going so fast that I (just about) have to run to catch up. "Peeta!" I finally catch up to him. "What are you going to do?"

"I just want to talk to him," his voice is calmer than it was a minute ago. "I promise, Katniss. I just want to talk to him." I believe him. Peeta isn't known for lying to me. Frankly, I probably wouldn't know it if he was lying to me. He's just so trustworthy.

"Gale," Peeta says.

Gale comes back into the area. "Peeta." He says stoically. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," says Peeta. "I need to talk about you kissing Katniss."

"When?" Gale asks smugly. "Before or after the Quell."

"After?" Peeta looks at me.

"I have _no_ idea what he's talking about," I assure Peeta.

Peeta looks back at Gale, "We're in the same squad, and Katniss and I are married—not to mention, parents, but that's not why I'm here—we need to talk our own, whatever, out. Because we _cannot,_ keep this up. It's stressing Katniss out. She's constantly dreaming about us killing each other."

"I am?" I gasp.

"Yeah," he glances at me. "There's a lot of 'Peeta, don't kill him!' and 'Gale don't hurt Peeta!' screams in your sleep. Johanna has learned to ignore it, but you jump a lot."

"Oh," I say. That's news to me. "Do you ever wake me up?"

"Every time."

"Then why don't I remember that?" I'm confused.

"Because you fall asleep almost immediately," he shrugs, "apparently not as traumatizing as the dreams about the arena." I nod. The dreams about the Games _never_ get easier. "Or losing me."

"Remember on the train when you said, 'my nightmares are usually about losing you. I'm okay when I realize you're here'?" He nods. "That's pretty much me now." He smiles and grabs my hand and turns back to face Gale.

"We need to work this out." Peeta says again. "We're going to need to work together and Katniss can't keep running interference, it's too exhausting. Johanna's talked to me about it." So that's what she talked about earlier. "I don't know why I'm still jealous of you, and I hate it." Gale nods in agreement. "I trust Katniss, implicitly, but I just don't trust you."

"Well," Gale says. "The feeling is mutual. Except you got Katniss."

"You think it was all that easy?" Peeta asks.

"Well, yeah." Is all he says.

"I can assure you it was not." He sighs loudly. "After the Games, what happened with the 'star-crossed lovers'? She went back to spending all her time with you, and pretending I didn't exist." As if anticipating my response he glances over his shoulder, "we can talk about that later." I nod and he looks back at Gale. "Then the Victory Tour came, and she'd have nightmares, I started coming to make sure she was okay. She'd ask me to stay, and I would crawl into the bed with her and hold her till she fell asleep. Towards the end of the Tour, it wasn't a question about whether we'd sleep in the same bed or not. That's all that happened. Just slept in the same bed. But I was sure that she really loved you. After they whipped you—"

Gale is shaking his head. "No, you'd already won by then."

"What?" Peeta asks perplexed by this. "Why do you say that?"

"Oh Peeta," he sighs. "She picked you long before that."

I'm looking back and forth between the two. This conversation is definitely more laid back than I thought it would be…but they're talking about me…and I'm not entirely sure how I feel about that, but I don't say anything. I stand as the conversation continues.

"When?" Peeta asks.

"I don't think she realized it," he explains. "But when she talked to me about running away—she talked to me first—I asked her if she loved me, she couldn't answer. And when I asked her if you would come, she said yes. I asked if she would just leave you here…at first she said yes, but within seconds she said, 'I'll get him to come.' She refused to leave you behind. She would have left me behind."

"Why do you say that?" I ask.

"Katniss…you know me better than anyone, you tell me."

"Because you would have stayed anyways." I shrug.

"Exactly." He nods.

"But that's not the reason I—wait—" Peeta's eyes narrow at Gale. "If you _knew_ it then, _why_ did you kiss her before the Quell? I don't think it was a goodbye kiss. You didn't kiss her before the first Games. What made this time so important?"

"I just wanted to see if there was a chance she could still love me," he sighs. "I'm sorry Peeta."

Well this conversation…has left my mind completely blank.

"I won't say it's okay," Peeta says. "Because it's not. Her and I were married by that time, and she was pregnant. That crosses several lines, Gale. Several. I know you love her…it's hard not to, but, that just wasn't okay."

"Did she tell you about it?" Gale asks.

"Well," Peeta says. "No, I guess not. I mean she did eventually."

"But she didn't tell you then, any guesses why?"

"She didn't want me to get mad?" Peeta's not sure why.

"Because she cared so much about you…that she didn't want to hurt you. She refused—would have—refused to leave that arena without you. I saw what happened when you hit the force field Peeta. I watched it live. And the way she kissed you on the beach…she never kissed me like that. Not even close. Not ever. That's how I knew she loved you. And she chose to kiss you before you were split up. Chose. She wasn't doing it for the cameras. Sadly, I know the difference between her kissing you because she wants to, and to please the cameras." He sighs. "There was a point during the victory tour that the kisses changed. Not necessarily her attitude, but there wasn't as much resistance. And then the wedding…don't even get me started."

"Why are you even telling me this?" Peeta asks.

"So you know where I'm coming from before you hit me," Gale says turning his cheek to Peeta.

"I'm not going to hit you, Gale," Peeta says plainly.

"Why not?" Gale is confused, and I'm oddly proud of Peeta.

"Gale," Peeta sighs. "I've been in two different arenas where killing other people is your objective. To stay alive you're going to have to kill people. That's the whole point of the Games. I hate that. I hate that they put a bunch of children in an arena and tell them to fight to the death. They don't care what happens to us, they don't even care who makes it out as long as there is a winner. As long as there is one person standing. Katniss and I challenged that and were put back in the arena with trained killers. Snow was probably hoping someone would kill us, so that he wouldn't have to. But people defied the Capitol again." His shoulders drop. "No, Gale. I'm not going to hit you. I've spent too long trying to kill people, and to end this war I'm going to need to do more of it. I'm not going to waste that on hitting you."

"I'm truly sorry, Peeta." Gale says, his head low.

"Not going to say it's okay," says Peeta. "But if you're willing to stop making moves on Katniss, then I'm willing to try being…allies? Maybe if we can do that, friends even, but I'd just like to start at allies. I'd like to know you'd have my back if it came right down to it."

"For Katniss," explains Gale. "I'd have your back anyways."

Peeta extends his hand to Gale and they shake.

"Well…" I start and they both look at me. "This is not what I pictured, at all."

"Did you want me to hit him?" they ask in unison.

"No," I say. "Guess not. Just surprised…that you talked it out. Seriously you two have been stressing me out! Johanna wouldn't even put up with your—drama—and I felt like I was running interference because…well, because. You two are ridiculous! If I'd known it would only take a conversation, I'd have made you sort it out weeks ago. This is just insane." I drop Peeta's hand and throw my arms in the air as I walk away. "Neither of you follow me! I'm mad at both of you!"

"For talking?" they both say. Okay that's getting weird.

"Yes!" I say. "I don't know!" I wave my arms in the air. "I'm going to see Willow!" Then I'm gone in the hallway again. I almost run Johanna over. "What are you doing over here?"

"One of the guys that works down here, phoned me and told me what was going down," she sighs and crosses her arms and starts walking with me. "I'm a little disappointed to be honest."

"Why?" I ask her.

"Well, it's just Peeta," she shrugs. "Why is he always so calm? Even in the arena he didn't kill someone unless he had no other option. I have no doubt he would have killed the rest of us to keep you safe, but here Gale's kissed you—which I didn't know, thanks for that information!"

"Sorry."

"Anyways, and then he held you or whatever, a little bit ago," she shrugs. "Guess I just pictured Peeta getting a little more aggressive than that."

"That's just not Peeta, though." I say simply. "What he said is true, the arena made us think differently about how we treat other people."

"But you hit Gale," she says.

"Well, yes…"

"So?" she's antagonizing me on purpose.

"Well he deserved it," I explain.

"So why couldn't Peeta hit him?"

"Because Peeta wouldn't! He's far too good for that. It's just not who he is, Johanna," I say, slightly irritated with her. Which is a strange sensation, because I haven't felt that way towards her in a while, so it's really weird feeling it now. I decide to change subjects, "have you been to see Willow today?"

"Oh, yeah!" She perks up. "Doctors said she's doing great! She's gained a pound and a half!"

"That makes her just over 5 pounds then, doesn't it?"

"I think so," she says. "They just told me what she gained and I couldn't remember what it was that she actually weighed." She looks around, and then back to me. "Katniss, how do you feel about this mission? There's an arena set up…why?"

"I wish I knew." And I really do. It's hard knowing what to think. I haven't even thought about it that much since we got out of the meeting…well then again, things haven't exactly been normal since I got out of the meeting.

"You saw how we all noticed that, right?" She asks, her body half turned to me but still walking. "All of the victors. It didn't matter how long ago we won, or anything, we all just _saw_ it. Clear as day. We knew what it was, when no one else did. Gale looked incredibly confused until you and Finnick did that 'Seventy-Sixth Hunger Games' thing."

"Yeah," I agree. "I think that you'd have to be a victor to see it. Just because we all have lived through it. All of us. It doesn't matter when we won, or how for that matter, we're all victors—"

"Survivors." Says Haymitch from behind us. "I thought you'd understood that."

"Well," I start. "You know what I mean. We've been through and _survived_ the arenas. Each arena with its own—very different—obstacles. All of us were in that arena but you and Annie—of the people here in 13—there's just something about what the Games do to you. How you're forever affected by the things you experienced."

"We all have nightmares," says Johanna. "We all dream we're back in that arena. Every night. Like clockwork—no pun intended—to us, it's like we've never left. I think that's why we say we're survivors. Because we didn't choose—well, okay, technically you chose—to be in those arenas, but it happened, and we had to kill people. That's something none of us will ever forget. We might want to—"

"And we might not," Peeta's joined us. "Those arenas were horrible, yes, but they are as much a part of who we are now, as this rebellion is. As Katniss is."

"Me?" I spin to look at him.

"Yes. You." He steps up beside me. We've stopped walking, which I hadn't even noticed. We're all standing in a semi-sort of-circle-ish-thing… "Katniss, you don't understand the influence you have. It's because of you and the berries—" I start to speak and he just shakes his head so I close my mouth. "You defied the Capitol. You've made propos against the Capitol, and for the rebellion. You've encouraged the districts. You've threatened Snow on television. Finnick's exposed his secrets. Snow's afraid of you Katniss, because of what you can do—"

"Have done, too," interjects Johanna.

"Exactly," he agrees. "It's because of you. Because of the Mockingjay, that people are willing to fight. That people are willing to stand up and refuse to have any more Games. You are the face of the rebellion, since day one. When you volunteered for Prim, when you covered Rue in flowers, when Thresh let you live…and on and on the list goes. Katniss, you've given people hope. Hope that we can end this once and for all. Hope for a future where kids—including Willow—will never have to put their name in a bowl. You've given them hope for a better future. Don't sell yourself short for that."

Haymitch and Johanna are nodding with him, and then Finnick meets us. "How come, there's victors' meeting and no one invited me?" he looks at me. "I thought we were friends." He says extending a hand. "Sugar cube?" I laugh and so does he. "Seriously though. Sugar cube?"

"Sure," I say. "Why not?" I take the sugar cube from his hand and plop it in my mouth.

"Peeta's right though, Katniss," says Finnick. "You don't realize the effect that you have. We all saw it from the moment you pulled the berries out and handed half of them to Peeta. You've just been encouraging them since then on." Finnick looks at Peeta, "quit selling yourself short, Peeta. You took those berries from Katniss. You were determined to keep her safe and alive in the first and second arenas. You risked, whatever it was, to tell us about the plan of attack. You may have been in the Capitol, but you still made a difference here. To the rebellion. Peeta Mellark still has influence too. That's why Cressida wants to do a propo with both of you. Because with all that the Capitol has put you through, you're still together. You're still fighting. And that's all the rebels need to see to keep fighting. You've given an entire nation hope Katniss. You've given a body of people, hope for a future without the Games. Don't ever think you haven't done anything. Because Katniss, no one would have had the courage to stand up, until you did. That's why you're the Mockingjay, Katniss. That's why the people look to you, and that's why Coin's afraid of you. Because you have influence."

"They're right, sweetheart," you have brought a nation to it's feet. "A nation willing to fight. With and for you. Girl on fire, you sparked a flame that's still burning. You are why Snow sent everyone back to that arena. He wanted to kill your image. He wanted you to be a villain. He wanted to win. But you haven't let him. Not for one day, not for a moment."

"Well, now I've gotta say something," says Johanna. "You're not leaving me out of this." She turns to face me. "So I hated you, basically. I was jealous of you. First you managed to make it out of the Games with someone. Loved that someone, married that someone, had a baby with that someone. Katniss, you haven't let Snow stop you. He tried to separate you and Peeta, but you got him back. Snow can't hurt him anymore because he's here. He can't hurt you anymore. There's nothing stopping you and both Snow and Coin know that. You've gotten your feet back under you, and that's what changes it, that's what makes you powerful. There's nothing stopping you…nothing but yourself."

"You gotta believe in yourself, sweetheart," says Haymitch. "Once you've done that…you'll have a power that no one else has. They no one else can have, or could even wish to have. Katniss, you stay alive, you keep fighting, and there's no way Snow can win."

I've never thought about it like that…for maybe the second time in my life, I don't have a thing to say…and I don't know what to think. Peeta believes in me, I've always known that. I suppose Haymitch always has, he helped me in both arenas. But Finnick and Johanna. They have so much more faith and trust in me than I realized, and that fact is overwhelming. I only realizing I'm crying when I'm enveloped in Haymitch's arms. Right now, his are the most soothing, because he went against his better judgment and chose me over Peeta. He chose to believe in me, and that means the world.

And they're right. I'm not going to let Snow win. Not anything. Not ever.


	26. Chapter 26

**_School starts tomorrow, but I wanted to get one last chapter up before my sparatic updates! :-) Not ever giving up on this story. Not ever._**

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"Katniss! Peeta!" Cressida's voice is echoing as she gets closer and closer to us. I pull myself together and Haymitch releases me from his arms. With a little tap on my nose he walks away with a see you later or something or other. Finnick smiles says he needs to go see how Annie's doing and leaves. Johanna said she refuses to get caught up in a propo and leaves immediately. But not before asking our permission to see Willow. We keep telling her she doesn't need to ask, but she insists on it, so we let her do it. "Katniss! Peet—Ah! There you are!" She comes into the hallway by us. "Are you ready to go do this propo?"

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"District 12," she says with a smile. "To the square, to your little house. Just see where it takes us." She explains that there is a hovercraft ready. I simply need to change into my Mockingjay outfit, which now fits completely, and managed not to get stretched out to bad. Which is a good thing. Within minutes we're on a hovercraft headed for 12. Gale is with us, because I think Cressida just likes looking at him, which I guess I can understand. "Almost there!"

When we get there we all are lowered to the ground into the town square. Almost immediately Peeta is walking towards the bakery. Not fast, but not slow either. It's almost as if he's not sure if he should make himself keep going or whether he should stop. I don't follow him the whole way, thinking that he might need a minute or two alone to process the site.

"Do you think he saw the other propo?" Gale asks stepping up beside me.

"Which one?" I ask.

"The one where you stood in the rubble of the bakery and told him that there was no one to hear him," he explains and I remember. There was no one to hear him…that's also when I realized that I—and baby—would be the only thing for him to come home to. I think besides me, helping in that bakery was the best thing for him.

"I don't know," I finally say.

"He might need you to process this," Gale says.

"No," I say. "I think he needs to be alone for a bit. He wasn't especially close to anyone in his family, but they were still his family. And he loved that bakery Gale. All those beautifully decorated cakes were done by him, did you know that?"

"I watched the Games," he shrugs. "I knew when you knew. It really shouldn't have been a surprise." I shake my head in agreement. "Peeta was always there. I suppose it made sense."

I look at him, "'Peeta was always there'?"

He looks guilty, "Well I noticed one day that be paid a certain amount of attention to you, even though he didn't talk to you…so I watched him for a day. He—well, its Peeta. I don't know how to explain him."

"I don't either," I say smiling at him. "He's so good. All the time. I don't deserve him."

"You're wrong," he says. Stubbornly shaking his head. "I think you deserve him most."

I look at him, "Why do you say that?"

"Well, look at everything you've been willing to do for him since the first Games." We both look at Peeta who has now bent down and is poking around the ash. "You risked your life getting him that medicine, and everyday that you didn't abandon him to go hide out in a tree. Believe me, Katniss. If anyone deserves Peeta Mellark, it's you."

I rub his arm, "Thank you."

He nods.

For a few minutes we stand just watching Peeta, trying to decide if we should move forward or stay put. Finally we start inching forward. "I don't think I'll go all the way up just yet, Catnip." Finally! My old nickname. Maybe we can get back to being friends.

"Why?"

"I think he's going to need you in a minute or two," he points to Peeta. "He may not have necessarily cared about them…but that's the face of someone who has lost something important. Regardless, I think now's a good time to move forward." He gives me a gentle push.

"Thank you," I say squeezing his forearm before walking up behind Peeta. I kneel down beside him. I don't say anything. I'm just there. I don't know what to say to him, or what to do. I love my family, and they love me always have, and my parents never hit me—though I don't think Peeta's father ever would have hit him, but I don't know. I've never asked. I just felt like it wasn't my place. Married or not. I figured if he wanted to tell me about it then I would listen, but I'm not going to make him tell me anything he doesn't want to say.

"None of them made it?" he voice cracks.

"To the best of my knowledge," I sigh leaning my head on his shoulder and looping my arm through his. "No."

"What about Madge?" He asks and I answer by shaking my head. "I'm sorry Katniss."

I rub his arm, "I'm sorry Peeta. All of this is my fault."

"Katniss," he shakes his head. "You can't keep blaming yourself. Just because something happened, as a result of that arrow hitting the force field doesn't make it your fault. Blaming yourself won't get you anywhere. The people in the districts knew what they were getting themselves into, and it was their choice, and some paid for it with their lives…but that doesn't make you responsible." He grabs my outside hand and holds it. "I was going to take those berries too, remember? We both challenged the Capitol by doing that. So if we're being honest, this is as much my fault as it is yours."

"Oh that was perfect!" says Cressida from behind us.

"Yeah," says Gale. "I tried to stop her."

"No," says Peeta standing. "I think that was a good idea." He pulls me up. "They still need to know she's human and this might help that. She is, she's one of the most human, human beings I know. My family may not have made it out, but Katniss, I didn't lose my whole family. I have you and Willow. We can rebuild. When this war is over, I'm building another bakery."

"Well, I know I'd be disappointed if you didn't," says Gale. "I couldn't always afford it, but it was always worth the money that I'd spend to get it."

"Thanks Gale," Peeta smiles at him.

I don't know what I was so worried about. Ever since their talk earlier, I haven't felt for an instant that I need to separate—or shoot—them. So maybe they can work together. I wouldn't go so far as to say they become friends, but as long as there's no more hostility, then I'm fine. I can live with this. And Gale called me Catnip. Are we taking steps towards being friends again? I surely hope so. To lose Gale's friendship would be hard. Because for so long he'd been my only friend, well, besides Madge, but there is no more Madge. My shoulders slump as the thought registers. I never got to say goodbye to her the second time, and now I'll never get that opportunity. Madge was the only female friend I ever had—not anymore though. I think I might be closer to Johanna now than I ever was with Madge, but Johanna's been in the arena. She's experienced what it is to survive the Games. And she's seen Willow. She's so good with Willow. I can hardly imagine what it would be like without Johanna.

"Shall we go to the house?" Cressida asks pulling me back to reality.

"Peeta?" I look at him. I don't want to rush him away from the bakery if he's not ready to leave it yet.

"Yeah, sure," he says.

We make our way from the square to Victors Village where our house stands resolute. Unharmed by the firebombs dropped on the rest of District 12. We make it to the stairs on the porch.

"Let them go in first," Gale tells Cressida. There's no suggestion in his voice. He's telling them to give us a few minutes. I shoot him a thank you look. He'll know the difference. And I know that he does because he nods at me.

Peeta grabs my hand and we ascend the stairs. Looking over his shoulder, "Give us five minutes?"

"We'll give you ten," says Gale.

"Thanks," says Peeta and we enter the house.

The feeling is overwhelming. The last time I was here, Snow had Peeta. He left me a rose. He left me a _rose_! I run up the stairs pulling Peeta behind me. Upon entering our room I look for the bouquet. Upon seeing the rose I drop Peeta's hand walk over to it, rip it out of the vase, throw it on the floor and smash it underneath my boot. The look on Peeta's face is obvious confusion. "Snow." Is all I say before rushing over to him.

I jump in the air and wrap my legs around his hips, he staggers briefly, but catches me. "I never thought I would get you back!" Then he's kissing me. We haven't kissed like this since the morning in the dining hall. I never know what to think, or what I'm thinking when I'm kissing Peeta. That's the difference between Peeta's kisses and Gale's kisses. Gale kisses me and I can't stop thinking about it, comparing it, analyzing it. But when Peeta kisses me, the whole outside world fades away, and there is no one else around but the two of us. The only thing stopping us now from doing anything but kissing is the film crew downstairs as the door opens. Have we spent the whole ten minutes kissing? Not that that is a problem…it was a ten minutes well spent.

I hop down apologize for making him put so much pressure on his leg. He smiles and says it was worth it. I kiss him one more time and pull the rose off the ground, grab his hand and head back downstairs. Everyone looks at us quizzically. Everyone save Gale. This time there is no hate or anger in his expression, it's almost…amusement?

"Gift from Snow," I hold up the rose. "From months ago when he had Peeta." I walk over to the sink and drop it in the disposal, push the button and it's gone. But the stench is still here so I dump some soap down on top of it. I turn back to face the confused group. "Okay, what do you want to do while we're here?"

"I thought…" starts Cressida. "Tell us what life was like before the Games." Peeta and I look at each other.

"That's not gonna work," says Peeta.

"It's counter-productive to what we want to accomplish," I say.

"What is it we want to accomplish?" Cressida asks.

"Showing Snow, he can't hurt us anymore." Says Peeta.

"And by letting us take Peeta," I say. "We're stronger than ever before."

"But no mention of Willow," Peeta adds.

"Right," I confirm. "No mention of Willow at all. I don't want Snow knowing that there is a way to hurt both Peeta and I at the same time…and to make sure that it's felt and can never…"

"Just no mention of Willow," Gale cuts in.

"Alright, alright, alright," says Cressida throwing her hands in the air. "But we're losing a lot by not using her."

"No," say Peeta and I in unison.

"Fine," she shrugs. "But you two had better give me something to work with."

She finally gives Peeta and I full reign of what we're going to do. And we sit down on our couch and talk about what Snow did to Peeta, about everything that Finnick already said—well, I do, Peeta hadn't actually heard that—about Snow using him.

"I may have judged him a bit too harshly," says Peeta.

"It's okay," I reassure him. "We've worked it out already."

Then we talk about what it was like in the first Games, the Victory Tour, the second Games. People don't know what it's like in the arena unless they are told, and even still, no one really understands unless they've been there themselves. It's actually a much more emotional story than we thought it would be. Talking about when Peeta hit the force field. When I almost drowned. The conversation on the beach, we take a momentary interlude to talk about that between ourselves before continuing. Then we talk about that last goodbye, the "see you at midnight," that never happened. By the end of the conversation we're both crying. Cressida gives us a break and then the camera is on me. Peeta's already said what he wants to say.

"Snow," I glare at the camera. "You tried to take so much from me. My home, Peeta, my life…but you've failed. And you want to know why? Because you try so hard to hurt people. To hurt the victors. To hurt me, and Peeta, because we challenged you. We challenged the Capitol. We took a stand refusing to lose each other, refusing to give in to your sick Games. We came back fighting, we're fighting still. As long as there are people who oppose you, as long as there are people who will stand up against the Capitol, as long as I am alive, you will never sleep peacefully. Like I said before, we burn, you burn with us. There is no other option. If we go down, you're coming with us, and I can _promise_ you, it will not be pretty."

I take a deep breath before continuing, "I'm coming for you. And you're not going to like it when I get there. I can promise you that much. You wanted me to convince you, done. I promised not to lie, well, guess what…try to call my bluff. Try to find that I don't mean every word I've just said, ever have said, or ever will say, and know that I mean them. Every. Single. One." I stand up. "You can't crush a people who still have hope. And hope is powerful. Hope, is why you're losing. Our hope keeps us fighting. And hope is why we'll never stop fighting, until we've won."

"Cut!" hollers Cressida, "We need to get back to 13 _now_!"

"'Girl on fire burns on,'" says Gale encouragingly.

"See, Katniss," says Peeta. "There's a reason you're the Mockingjay. You may not be so hot in front of a live audience…but you make a propo talking to Snow, and that's why the people follow you. That is why no one else could be the Mockingjay. _That_ is why the hope you just talked about exists. Because you _keep_ fighting."

"And you're right, Catnip," Gale adds. "We won't stop fighting. Not now. Not ever. We're in this war for the long haul. And we aren't stopping until it's done. We're not stopping till the whole Capitol is crumbling around Snow's feet. We're not stopping until we've won, and we will." He takes a deep breath. "Because like Peeta said, you're the reason hope exists. _This_ is why _you_ are the Mockingjay."


	27. Chapter 27

_**Please remember to bear with me, my 3 English classes started this week. Whoo...but I hope you enjoy this chapter! And thank you SO very much to all of you who read this! It's been such a pleasure and joy writing this! And I'm looking forward to the many chapters in the future! :-)**_

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How many lectures can I possibly get in the same day? Apparently several as Plutarch feels the unnecessary need to join in. I listen, and while he makes some good points all of the lectures from everyone I care about—save for Prim or my mother—is good enough for me. At least for now. I've decided to spend a few hours with Willow. Peeta was needed in command for something, so I chose to go see our daughter.

I haven't been in there long when the door opens. I'm stunned to see Gale. He seems hesitant walking in, which I guess makes sense. He hasn't been here before…then again I still hadn't approved him so had Peeta done that? My arm reflexively tightens around Willows small sleeping body. I can feel her heartbeat where she lays on my chest. My heart and hers have plenty of conversations. She sleeps so well when she's laying right over top of my heart. I loosen my arm and rub her little back and touch her little feet.

"Katniss…" Gale starts.

"Hi," I say.

"Hi."

He stands over by the door and we sit in silence for several minutes. I don't know what to say and I'm positive he doesn't know what to say either. What happened in 12 was so unexpected that I still don't know how to respond to anything. For the first time though, I'm not agitated. I'm not mad at him. Perhaps it's because I'm so exhausted that I just don't have the energy to be, but he looks quite pathetic right now.

"Willow, would like to know, whether you plan on standing here for a while," I say. "Or sit down and actually talk to her mother." I nod to the chair across from me.

He laughs nervously. "You sure?"

"Mhm." I nod and he walks forward and takes a seat.

"Katniss," he leans forward, his elbows on his knees. "I'm really sorry."

"For what?" I ask.

"Everything."

Normally I'd be thinking that it was about time, that he should have come and done this, weeks ago, but I don't. The only thing that's on my mind is trying to force my eyes to stay open. Gale puts his face in his hands and I can hear him crying. Gale doesn't cry. He doesn't.

"Gale?" I straighten ever so slightly.

"I'm so sorry, Katniss." He says through his hands.

"Gale," I say. He doesn't look up at me. "Gale." He still doesn't look at me. I would probably be standing up and walking to him, yank his hands from his face and force him to tell me what's going on…but I can't. "Gale, look at me." He looks up. His eyes filled with tears. Now I don't know what to say. So we just sit there looking at each other.

We both start and stop several times hoping to latch onto something. Some topic of utter insignificance just so we'd have something to talk about, but as minutes turn into hours I'm fighting off sleep. I hardly notice, but we both end up falling asleep. I only realize it when Willow starts fussing so I sit up and reach for her bottle. The doctors still can't explain anything, but she's able to drink from a bottle, all other bodily functions are normal. They're almost willing to let her out of the hospital so we can take her back to our compartment, but Peeta and I are so worried that the old saying, "if it seems to good to be true, it usually is," will somehow take itself out on her, so we keep her in the hospital.

"Katniss," Gale's voice startles me, but I open my eyes and search for his face in the dark. "Can we talk?"

"Look at that, Willow," I rub her back again, "looks who finally decided to start talking."

"You didn't say anything either," he points out.

"Yes," I agree, slowly. "But you're the one who came in here." I pause, "how did you get in here anyways?"

"Peeta," Gale jerks his head towards the door.

I look over to the door. I wonder why Peeta did that. I have to admit that the last person who would let Gale in here would be Peeta. So what happened between them while I was in here, that Peeta was comfortable enough to give Gale admittance? What had happened? I have to know. But I'd rather ask Peeta about it than Gale, simply because it was Peeta who gave him the go ahead.

Gale takes a deep breath before speaking again, "I'm truly sorry, Katniss. I knew you loved Peeta, but I still thought that maybe if I was good enough, if I did something different, if I tried to show you how I really feel…that maybe you would have picked me over Peeta. But I knew long before you married him that I'd never get you back, and I'm sorry that I forced myself on you."

"Gale," I interrupt. "I wasn't always sure about Peeta."

"You weren't," he sighs. "I was. It's different when you're on the outside of a relationship Katniss. Everyone knew that Peeta loved you. Not a soul questioned that. No one. Everyone _knew_ that he loved you. The Capitol and the districts. The one they didn't believe—"

"Was me," I finish.

"Right." He says flatly. "But that arena. Come on Katniss, you're telling me you didn't know you loved him when he hit that force field?" The mere memory causes my heart to lurch. I had been an absolute wreck. "We all knew at that point, Katniss. Everyone. I don't think anyone doubted it after that. And Finnick told me what happened on the hovercraft after they lifted you from the arena. How you lunged at Haymitch, how you yelled and screamed at him." He shakes his head. "'She'll lose it when she hears about the boy,'" he quotes Haymitch. I'm hurled back to that very moment, when I found out that the Capitol had taken Peeta from me…the very moment I thought that I would never see him again. The moment part of my heart and soul died. "You did, Katniss." He straightens up in his chair. "You lost it. I've never seen you so upse—okay, when I kissed you before the Quell you were pretty upset—but this was a completely different kind. They were all scared you'd lose the baby. No one can explain anything about how she's here, or how you're here. And no one knows exactly what happened to Peeta when you went into labor." He takes a deep breath, "The doctors wouldn't tell him this Katniss," he looks me in the eye. "But they are concerned that he could have a relapse. They don't know if it's possible, but they want you to be wary. Especially with us going heading to the Capitol next week."

"Peeta doesn't know this?" I ask.

"No," he shakes his head. "But they thought you should be aware that it _could _happen. We're all hoping that it won't…we can't afford to lose you now. But they wanted to make sure you were aware that he's not completely out of the woods yet, Catnip." He scoots his chair closer to me and grabs my hand. "It's a real concern Katniss. Please promise me, that if something does happen with Peeta, that you'll be able to keep going. If only so that Willow doesn't have to have her name ever put into a reaping."

"Okay," it comes out as more of a squeak than a word.

"Thank you," he lets go of my hand and sits to the back of the chair. "I just don't want to see you hurting Katniss. I've never wanted that. And I'm truly sorry for the times that I made you feel like that. And for not being supportive, or understanding with what happened to Peeta. It was incredibly selfish of me. I didn't like the idea of losing to Peeta. The Capitol forced you two together…but then there came a point where you _chose_ to be with him. Don't ever apologize to me Katniss. Not about Peeta. You love him, and I knew that…I should have had the decency to respect that. Like Peeta did when he thought you loved me," he laughs. "Funny that he thought that."

Gale stands up and walks to the other side of Willows bed, "I mean, he was there everyday when your foot was healing. I wasn't. You never complained about that. I watched Peeta come and go. I'd see him go over in the morning, then go home in the evening. It was just…well, Katniss, he loves you so much. I was sure—am sure—he loves you more than I ever could." He looks at me. "You said one time, that the experience in the Games, was something you just couldn't explain. Well, that's because you cared about Peeta, you were just so worried about wounding me, that you didn't even listen to yourself."

"Gale," I say. "You can't blame yourself for my own confusion."

He waves me off, "Katniss, I don't think you understand. I had to watch you fall in love with Peeta. I've known you long enough, I could tell. I could see it. I tried to ignore it, tried to make you feel differently, but you always stood up for him. Your reception for one. Sorry about that."

I take Willow in my arms and stand up. I walk over beside Gale and lay her in the bed. "Please quit blaming yourself." I'm standing at his side now. "It's not all your fault. It's not all my fault, or all Peeta's. It's the Capitols."

"I know you'd like to think that," he says looking down at me. "But you and I both know, that you wouldn't have Peeta without those Games, and you've gotten to a point in your life where you really can't see your life without him." He shakes his head. "No. Even if the Games had never happened, you'd never have been as happy with me as you are with Peeta."

I laugh. "What part—when—have he and I had the opportunity to be happy?"

"Every time you're together." He shrugs. "You don't need to have a smile on your face all the time to show you're happy. You were just sitting there with Willow, no smile on your face, but you were happy. Happy to have her. Happy to be with her. Don't mistake contentment for unhappiness."

"Is everyone going to lecture me today?" I ask quietly.

"No." He says. "I'll leave now." As he turns to leave I grab his hand on impulse. He turns to face me as I release my grip. "What is it?"

"Not everything with you was a lie," I say. Trying to make him feel at least a little bit better. I had treated them both poorly and had pulled at both of their hearts, simply because I would not admit how I felt about Peeta. If I'd done that after the first Games, maybe things would be different. Maybe then Peeta and I never would have been sent back to the Games, maybe Snow wouldn't have been able to take him from me…but what about Willow? She would still have to take part in the Games if none of this would have happened. I may have had Peeta stolen from me—yes, stolen—but my resolve to help the rebels has just skyrocketed.

"Katniss, you don't have to explain anything to me," he says.

"But—" I try.

"No." He shakes his head. "Katniss, you have nothing to apologize for that you haven't already." He looks back down at Willow. "I'd never thought I'd live to see the day you would be a mother…" he pauses. "Well, of someone else's kid." He only just realizes what he says when he quickly follows it up with, "At least it's a very good someone else. Someone who is going to make an excellent father." He looks at me. "You're lucky Katniss. To have someone like Peeta. Someone who would do _anything_ to protect you, to make sure you're safe, someone who loves you so unequivocally. I don't think anyone could love you as much as Peeta does. I think part of that is because the arena." He takes a few steps away from me, but doesn't leave. "I wasn't in the arena. I didn't know what it felt like to _have_ to protect you. How hard that must be. To make yourself so useless because you're trying to keep you alive. But Peeta did it. When they amended that rule the first thing you said or did, was to say his name aloud. You could have done any number of things, but you said his name."

He walks over and takes a seat again. Willow starts to fuss so I pick her up again and resume my seat with her laying on my chest. Gale continues, "I don't know what it was like in that arena. You and Peeta do, and that's something that no one else—unless they've been in an arena—can understand. You weren't the same person coming home, that you were when you left. The Games changed you Katniss."

"The Games change everyone," I say. "In one way or another."

"Yeah," he agrees. "But everyone else had to kill the rest of the contestants. You and Peeta lucked out. You're the first pair to win. But that's why we can't let the Capitol get away with it. We can't sit idly by and watch the Games continue. They are barbaric—"

"Gale," I interrupt. "I understand you're mad at the Capitol, and you hate the Games. But your hatred is strangling me. I know you hate them. Hell, I hate them. Peeta does too. And we have more of a reason to hate them than you do…but you're just so…fierce all the time. You hate them so much, I really worry that when we get to the Capitol you'll go charging somewhere and get yourself killed."

"I'll be fine, Katniss."

We sit in silence for a while when he finally opens his mouth, but then closes it. This goes on for another ten or so more minutes before he finally leans forward in the chair and looks me straight in the eyes. I don't know what he's going to say…or ask…or do, so I just sit there observing him.

"Can I hold her?" he asks looking at Willow.

"Willow?" I ask.

"Yeah," he nods. "Can I hold her?"


	28. Chapter 28

_**Thank you all for being so patient! It's been driving me nuts not being able to update as often. Stupid school, and reading, and papers, and BLEH. Anyways, here's the next chapter...**_

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I hadn't been too keen on Gale holding Willow last week, but he's apologized to me and Peeta and we've told him that he can visit her as long as Johanna is there, because we know she'd never let anything happen to her. We've seriously considered just having Willow call her "Aunt Johanna," "Aunt Jo," or "Auntie" but that's a little ways off yet, Willow can't even talk.

Neither of us have had the heart to tell Johanna, she's been so emotionally unstable lately. The only thing that seems to help is sleeping or spending time with Willow. It's not that Prim and my mother aren't good with her, but they just don't have as much time to spend with her as Johanna does. Peeta and I don't even have much time as Plutarch and Coin have chosen to put us into intensive training, why I don't know but by the time I crawl into bed I'm ready to sleep.

Tonight is different though…tomorrow we leave for the Capitol. Peeta and I just got back to our room from spending several hours with Willow, but Johanna told us that we needed to get sleep, and as she'd already slept a lot she took over with Willow. I don't know how Peeta and I will ever be able to leave Willow. The thought has the feeling that someone is stabbing me in the heart. I've never been more than a few levels away from her…and now we'll be Districts away. I'm not ready.

Peeta is already laying on the bed, his left arm behind his head, and his right out on my side of the bed. I pull off my shirt and pants and climb in beside him in my underclothes. He pulls me over by him and my head rests on his chest. I have a sudden flashback of him dying in the Quell and shiver. He pulls the blankets up over my shoulder.

"What's wrong, Katniss?" he asks.

"Nothing."

"Katniss…" he says slowly.

"I just thought back to the arena…the force field…you dying…" I fumble.

"It's okay," he says stroking my hair with his right arm. "I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere ever again."

"You better not," I say. "You die on me again and I'll bring you back myself and kill you again on principle!" Okay, that was a little harsher than I planned on it being, but Peeta with his good sense of humor laughs.

"Okay Katniss," he says and I can hear the smile in his voice. "But the same goes for you."

"Well, _I_ haven't died on you."

"Well, okay I suppose that's true." He sighs, "That wasn't intentional though, you know that."

"I know," I say moving my index finger over his chest. I don't know what to do with myself right now. I could spend an eternity in his arms, and I'll be damned if I don't bring him back out of the Capitol with me. There's no way I'm letting anyone or anything take Peeta from me ever again. He's mine and mine alone—okay, Willow's too—and I'm not going to give him up for anything.

"Are you okay?" he's looking down at me.

"We're going to the Capitol tomorrow," I say evasively.

"Not what I asked."

"I know…" I sigh heavily. "We leave tomorrow."

"Yes," he says.

"Like…tomorrow, Peeta." I say. "We leave tomorrow." I start shaking.

"Katniss," he's rubbing my arm. "We'll come back. We have to come back. We're not going to make Willow an orphan. We'll come home."

"Where's home Peeta?" I ask. "Certainly not here in Thirteen."

"We'll go back to Twelve if we win this war," he says.

"But there is no Twelve."

"We'll rebuild it." He's stroking my hair again. "I'll start my own bakery, and we'll live in Victors' Village, and Willow will grow up, and we'll rebuild Katniss. Don't give up on the cause now. You're the Mockingjay. Everyone will be following your example."

"Why does everyone want to follow me?" I whimper.

"Because that's what we do, Katniss."

"You'd follow me wherever I go," I say meeting his gaze.

He nods, "because I love you."

"But why would anyone else want to follow me? I'm nobody special."

"Weren't you listening to us last week?" he sighs and pulls me closer still.

"Yes…"

"Then we're going to avoid another lecture, right?" he kisses my forehead.

"Yes." I say, snuggling up as close to him as I can get. "Peeta?"

"Yeah?" he asks.

"I want to freeze this moment and live in it the rest of my life," I quote him, as best as I can remember.

"Okay," he says.

For the next hour we just lay there in each other's arms. Neither knowing what to say and both terrified to have to let go at any point in time. It's like we're in the Games again…but I suppose maybe we've never actually left. As long as Snow still has the power, we haven't won. The Games are still going. But we're determined, we're victors, and victors get the job done. And one thought makes me smile, _I kill Snow._ No one is going to take that from me. Not even Coin.

When Peeta finally speaks again its slow, and labored. "Katniss, if it comes down to me or you living—"

I spin around so that I'm on my stomach looking over at him. "Don't say that!" I shake my head fiercely.

"But we have to be sensible abou—"

"No!" I yell. "We are not having this conversation!" I'm so bothered that I jump out of the bed. It's freezing though so I pull my robe around me. "The last time we had this conversation Snow took you from me! You were taken to the Capitol! You were hijacked! At no point are we ever having this conversation!" I'm sobbing, but I'm still so upset with him for even wanting to discuss this. He tries to get up. "Stay down!" He relaxes. "Why would you say that?!"

"Katniss…" he says slowly, "we have to be practical about this."

"No we don't!" I scream.

"Yes," he says calmly. "We do, because like it or not Katniss, there is a good chance that we both won't make it back here." His shoulders slump, "Snow wants us too much."

"Well he can't have you!" I'm getting to that type of hysterical cry. "Not again! Not after I got you back! He can't take you Peeta! HE JUST CAN'T HAVE YOU ANYMORE! NOT AT ALL! I WON'T LET THAT HAPPEN!" He has jumped out of the bed and is holding me now as I slump into his embrace and I cry and cry and cry. I don't know how long I've been crying, but we've somehow made it back to the laying down position we had before and I can't see to stop my tears. They seem to flow endlessly. I can feel myself beginning to drift off, I hold on just a little bit tighter to Peeta, and whisper, "Stay with me?"

"Always."

The next morning is something else entirely. We're awoken by Finnick and Johanna at the door. I've forgotten that I'm in my robe and roll myself onto the floor. I can imagine Johanna rolling her eyes because she comes and yanks me off the ground. "Brainless, being brainless." She sighs and pulls me into the closet. She helps me get dressed and within a few moments we're meeting Finnick, Peeta, Gale, Boggs, Jackson, Cressida, the rest of the film team and a couple others. I walk right over to Peeta and throw my arms around him and new tears form, but I stifle them as best I can.

Boggs ushers us all into the hovercraft. We're going to be dropped off near one of the tunnels to the Capitol, one that months ago Peeta and I had been riding. Haymitch had said, "_You never get off this train_." I suppose he was right. _Haymitch!_ I spin to face Peeta.

"We didn't say goodbye to, Haymitch!"

Everyone is startled by my sudden outburst when I hear his condescending tone in my ear.

"I don't need you crying on me, sweetheart," he says, "you just make it back here and we'll call it good."

"I will."

"Good." He says as the conversation ends. I would have preferred saying goodbye to him in person, but if this is the best I can do, I suppose I'll have to live with that. And I will come back. I will and so will everyone else here…oh who am I kidding…if all of us make it out of this, I don't know what I'll do, but I'll do something to commemorate the odds finally being in our favor.

The trip is arduous at best. We are all getting sick of being on board when we finally land. And just like we'd been told, Peeta and I know exactly where we are.

"Your favorite color is green," he whispers.

"And yours is orange," I whisper back. Then my thoughts are filled with Effie. Oh how I hope she's alright. I didn't always appreciate her, and that is _entirely_ my fault. She only ever did what she thought was best for us, and she always did whatever she could to help us, even if it was a bit naïve at times. She was always there. Besides Cinna she was the only person from the Capitol who truly liked me. Well, Caesar, kind of did. I don't know about Caesar Flickerman, he seemed pretty convinced that I destroyed that arena on purpose, that I was part of the rebellion all along…no. Besides Cinna, Effie Trinket is the only person in the Capitol who ever truly liked me.

We've reached the area where Plutarch had talked about before, with all the mines, of sorts. We have to be incredibly careful with all of this. We have to do some propoing on the way in so that's what we're doing when we all burst into laughter. We don't even know why we're laughing, perhaps we're so high on our own adrenaline that we just can't focus. Boggs yells at us to get ourselves together, and by some miracle we do.

We pull ourselves back together and just as soon as that happens there's a blast and we're all propelled in different directions, recovering we notice that Boggs has had his legs blasted apart and is losing blood fast. That's when the next blast hits and Peeta is thrown back and Gale leans in to protect me. After we're back on our feet and Gale and a couple of the guys are trying to lift Boggs, but not before he transfers the control of the Holo over to me. It works, I say my name and I now have control of the stupid thing.

I turn around to make sure Peeta is okay when what I see frightens me.

Peeta is running right at me.

I know this run.

I've seen it before.

The day he tried to strangle me.

Snow's done it again.

Just before he can reach me—_just_, he's a foot away—and Gale knocks him unconscious, my knees give out and I fall to the ground and sob. Maybe I was hoping for too much, maybe I was just so naïve thinking that nothing would happen to Peeta, that he was completely mine and Snow was never going to get him back…but here I am, crumpled up on the ground and what Gale cautioned me about last week has happened.

Peeta has relapsed.

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_**Now that you've finished the chapter would you mind hopping over to my profile and taking a quick poll. Not to sound like an ass, but I want to know who you'd be the least upset to see die in this story. I can't guarantee that it will be that person, these characters have been writing this, I've simply been typing it up. But if you could do that really quick that would be amazing!**_

_**Thanks! :-)**_


	29. Chapter 29

_**This chapter is dedicated to the brilliance that was Philip Seymour Hoffman. I could not have chosen a better Plutarch Heavensbee and my thoughts and prayers are with his family. So PSH, this chapter is for you.**_

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"Katniss," Gale has to yank me off of the ground. "You can't do this now!"

"But," I squeak, "Peeta…"

"Right," he nods. "We'll deal with that later, but we need to get out of the street and we can't do that if you're going to curl up on the ground and refuse to move. We'll deal with Peeta later, but we really need to get off the street!" He's shaking me because I cannot seem to stop the tears. "Katniss!" He shoves me away, hoists Peeta onto his shoulder and we all dart into a building. Gale shoves Peeta in a closet so he can't lunge at me again.

What happened? He didn't even have any venom did he? Why is he all of a sudden hating me again? I can't deal with this, I just can't. I can't think I can't function I can't breathe. I'm hyperventilating when Johanna slaps me in the face.

"Pull it together, Katniss!" She yells at me. "We need you here! Peeta's going to need you too, so you can't do _this_! You can't fall apart now! We have a job to do, and I'm not going to let Peeta going nuts change that! He's still alive be thankful for that! And pull your fucking self together! Oh. My. God." She slaps me again for good measure.

"Right," Jackson says interrupting. "Katniss what did Boggs do?" After an explanation that I don't even believe and some other conversation that I don't even remember Gale looks at me.

"We have to go, and I'm with Katniss." He goes to the closet and hauls Peeta up over his shoulder again. Seeing Peeta in this state is traumatizing in the least. I thought we were past this homicidal mission to kill me. But I guess we're not, my heart is breaking. Of course Snow would have planned for this…or maybe he didn't? This thought is immobilizing. Johanna has to shove me out the door.

_Katniss! You need to pull yourself together if you're going to get anywhere near the Capitol at all!_ I think. I shake myself and walk behind Johanna who is going on and on about something, but I can't focus. I can't think. Breathing is damn near impossible. I hate Snow. I will kill him.

We make it into some house, somewhere. I don't know. I just followed everyone here, leaned against a wall and slid down to the floor. I have my legs folded up and my chin is resting on my knees. If I wasn't leaning against this wall I would probably be rocking myself back and forth. I don't know what to do. My sanity seems to have been sucked from me, and sucked everything out of me.

When Peeta is finally conscious again I can't bare to look at him without crying, Gale has put handcuffs on him, and I don't eve know where they came from. I suppose that's a good idea, but if he tried hard enough he could still choke me, even with handcuffs on.

"What's going on?" Peeta asks.

No one knows what to say and they all keep looking at me as if I'm the one who should be answering this question, I try unsuccessfully. "Well, you see—" "It's like this—" "There was an explo—" I start to cry. "I don't know Peeta!"

"Okay," Gale says looking at Peeta. "We really don't know Peeta." He just shrugs. No one knows what to say to Peeta, but after awhile Johanna sighs really loudly and walks over to Peeta and slaps him in the face.

"What the hell, Johanna?" Peeta yells at her.

"You still hate Katniss?" she asks—more like—yells.

"What?" he looks around the room at all of us before his eyes rest on me. I'm not sure what's going on in his head, but all I want is to pull him from the storm that must be once again raging inside his head. "I remember the bread." He says and I sigh, are we really this far back? Why did I get my hopes up? Gale said before we even left that it was possible, why was it possible? Why the hell hadn't they fixed Peeta? There must have been something else they could have done.

"That's not an answer Peeta," says Johanna fiercely.

"I'm…I'm…I'm…" he's looking around at all of us. "I'm so confused."

Johanna looks over at me, "That's good. You can deal with that, right, Katniss?" She has very little patience for me right now and I can tell by her hostility that she's feeling some of those strong emotions that she felt in the arena. I know she'd never hate me as much as she did in the arena…especially now there's Willow, but honestly, I don't think she'd hesitate to kill me if it would help get back at the Capitol…I'd thought we were friends. Just then there is another slap across my face, "I said," her teeth are clenched, "Can you live with that, Katniss?"

I nod hesitantly and slowly.

"Good," she nods. "Because that is all I can guarantee you right now."

"We need to keep moving, they're going to—" Gale starts but the television interrupts him. I hadn't even realized it had been turned on. It's President Snow, and I now can imagine an arrow going straight through his heart. He's the target in my own Games, and I will be the victor here as well.

Pictures of Boggs, Gale, Finnick, Johanna, Peeta and me; much like they did in the arena. Snow is congratulating the Peacekeepers on a job well done. They are under the impression that we are all dead, but I know most certainly that they won't be believing that for much longer, not once they check the area out and realize Boggs is the only casualty of their supposed victory.

Then we're looking into the face of President Coin, she's introducing herself, identifies herself as the head of the rebellion and gives my eulogy. Praise for the girl who survived the Seam and the Hunger Games, then turned a country of slaves into an army of freedom fighters. "Dead of alive, Katniss Everdeen will remain the face of this rebellion. If ever you waver in your resolve, think of the Mockingjay, and in her you will find the strength you need to rid Panem of its oppressors."

Up comes a heavily doctored photo of me looking beautiful and fierce with a bunch of flames flickering behind me. No words. No slogan. My face is all they need now.

Beetee gives the reigns back to a very controlled Snow. I have the feeling the president though the emergency channel was impenetrable, and someone will end up dead tonight because it was breached. "Tomorrow morning, when we pull Katniss Everdeen's body from the ashes, we will see exactly who the Mockingjay is. A dead girl who could save no one, not even herself." Seal, anthem, and out.

"Except you won't find her," says Finnick to the empty screen, voicing what we're all probably thinking. The grace period will be brief. Once they dig through those ashes and come up missing eleven bodies, they'll know we escaped.

"We can get a head start on them," I say. Suddenly, I'm so tired. All I want is to lie down on a nearby green sofa and go to sleep. To cocoon myself in a comforter made of rabbit fur and goose down. Instead, I pull out the Holo and insist that Jackson talk me through the most basic commands—which are really about entering the coordinates of the nearest map grid intersection—so that I can at least begin to operate the thing myself. As the Holo projects our surroundings we realize that there is only one option.

"Underground," says Gale.

Underground. Which I hate. Like mines and tunnels and 13. Underground, where I dread dying, which is stupid because even if I die aboveground, the next thing they'll do is bury me underground anyway. I'm almost wishing that I was dead and then I remember that even if Peeta is forever lost to me, I'm still a mother, I still have Willow. No, that is one thing that I'll keep fighting for. A future where she won't have to experience what her parents did, and she most certainly would feel the full effects of it, and Finnick and Annie's child as well. The children of previous victors have always been prized. Sometimes I think the results and the reapings are rigged, but there's no way to prove that. But in my heart of hearts I know it's true.

"Okay, then. Let's make it look like we've never been here," I say. We erase all signs of our stay.

Finally, there's only Peeta to contend with. He plants himself on the blue sofa, refusing to budge. "I'm not going. I'll either disclose your position or hurt someone else."

"Snow's people will find you," says Finnick.

"Then shoot me," says Peeta.

"No," I say trying to stand up.

"Or what?" he asks.

"We'll knock you out and drag you with us," says Jackson. "Which will both slow us down and endanger us."

"Stop being noble! I don't care if I die!" He turns to me, pleading now. "Katniss, please. Don't you see, I want to be out of this?"

_No. I'm not leaving him behind. Not now, not ever. After all, he'd never leave me behind for anything._ "We're wasting time. Are you coming voluntarily or do we knock you out?"

Peeta buries his face in his hands for a few moments, and my heart is breaking seeing him like this, then he rises to join us.

"Should we free his hands?" Cressida asks.

"No!" Peeta growls at her, drawing his cuffs in close to his body.

"No," I echo. "But I want the key." Jackson passes it over without a word. I slip it into my pants pocket. When Jackson pries open a small metal door several people file in before me. Jackson and I are the only two left yet when she grabs my arm.

"Katniss," she says holding my gaze. "Are you willing to do whatever it takes?"

"Yes," I say, but I think I know where she's going with this.

"I don't think you are."

"Why not?" I ask.

"I'm not sure you could really shoot Peeta, if it came to it," she says.

I jerk back. I'd expected this, but it's still like a bolt of electricity was shot right through my heart. I stumble forward and hurl myself down the shaft. It's all I can do to keep from bursting into tears. Good lord, look what having a baby has done to me. I never used to cry this much…or maybe it was finally admitting that I loved Peeta that caused all the emotional upheaval.

"You okay?" Johanna asks. I've never seen her look this concerned over me before. I nod frantically. She doesn't need to know I'm not okay, and neither does anyone else.

We get to a certain spot in the tunnel when Peeta bursts out, "I just don't know what's real anymore. Sometimes I feel like there's this undeniable connection, Katniss, and then other times I just want to choke the life out of you…my memories are in such a jumble I don't know what's real and what's not real." Everyone is staring at him, but it's Finnick who speaks up.

"Then you should ask, Peeta. That's what Annie does."

"Who?" Peeta says. "Who can I trust?" He looks at me, "Katniss?"

I just shake my head. I don't know what to say or think and as I turn to look away I could almost swear that I saw his shoulders droop. Is he being genuine right now? Does he not remember anything? Oh god, what if he doesn't remember Willow, or being back in 13? What if he doesn't remember anything since the Games…and then those memories are so warped? I start crying but stifle my tears as I lay down. We've been given shifts with Peeta and the first watch is not mine.

For most of my watch there is silence, I don't know what to say and Peeta seems to be at a loss for words too. But at just a few minutes before four, Peeta turns to me again. "You favorite color…it's green?"

"That's right." Then I think of something—well, more than one, but I'll keep it down to one thing—to add. "And yours is orange."

"Orange?" He seems unconvinced.

"Not bright orange. But soft. Like the sunrise," I say. "At least, that's what you told me once." My heart is pounding in my chest. Am I going to have to reconstruct his every memory of me…well everyone but the one about the bread?

"Oh." He closes his eyes briefly, maybe trying to conjure up that sunset, then nods his head. "Thank you."

But more words tumble out. "You're a painter. You're a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces."

Then I dive into my sleeping bag before I do something stupid like cry.

In the morning we strategize more. Finnick explains a game—of sorts—to help Peeta remember things. He says something, and if he's not sure if it's real or something the Capitol fabricated, he simply asks. "Real or not real?" And whoever knows the answer will tell him. Most of the answers come from me, however. No one knows Peeta like I do.

After another day of navigating the underground we stop again. My eyes fall on Peeta, whose head rests by my feet, I see he's awake. I want nothing more than to reach into his head and sort all of the jumbled mess out, but I can't. So I settle for something that I can do.

"Have you eaten?" I ask. A slight shake of his head indicates he hasn't. I open a can of chicken and rice soup and hand it to him, keeping the lid in case he tries to slit his wrists with it or something. He sits up and tilts the can, chugging back the soup without really bothering to chew it. The bottom of the can reflects the lights from the machines and I remember something that's been itching at the back of my mind since yesterday. "Peeta, when you asked about what happened to Darius and Lavinia," our female Avox finally had a name. Peeta mentioned them being tortured earlier, asked if it was real or not real, Jackson confirmed that it was. As much as she could confirm. "And Jackson confirmed it and told you it was real, you said you thought so. Because there was nothing shiny about it. What did you mean?"

"Oh. I don't know exactly how to explain it," he tells me. "In the beginning, everything was just complete confusion. Now I can sort certain things out. I think there's a pattern emerging. The memories they altered with the tracker jacker venom have this strange quality about them. Like they're too intense or the images aren't stable. You remember what it was like when we were stung?"

"Trees shattered. There were giant colored butterflies. I fell in a pit of orange bubbles." I think about it. "Shiny orange bubbles."

"Right. But nothing about Darius or Lavinia was like that. I don't think they'd given me any venom yet," he says.

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" I ask. "If you can separate the two, then you can figure out what's true."

"Yes. And if I could grow wings, I could fly. Only people can't grow wings," he says. "Real or not real?"

"Real," I say. "But people don't need wings to survive."

"Mockingjays do." He finishes the soup and returns the can to me. Is this some subconscious metaphor from Peeta? That he is my wings and I can't fly without him? Because if that is the case, then I know it's true.

In the fluorescent light, the circles under his eyes look like bruises. "There's still time. You should sleep." Unresisting, he lies back down, but just stares at the needle on one of the dials as it twitches from side to side. Slowly, as I would with a wounded animal, my hand stretches out and brushes a wave of hair from his forehead. He freezes at my touch, but doesn't recoil. So I continue to gently smooth back his hair. I can't do much for him right now, but at least I can do this. What I need is Willow in my arms and Peeta's around me, but that's not going to happen. Both Willow and Peeta are far away from me right now.

"You're still trying to protect me. Real or not real," he whispers.

"Real," I answer. It seems to require more explanation. "Because that's what you and I do. Protect each other." After a minute or so, he drifts off to sleep.

It doesn't take long before Johanna has moved over to my side. "He'll be okay, Katniss." She says. "He's tough. You're tough. You two have been through far worse than this."

"What's worse than this?" I ask bitterly.

"Katniss," she shakes her head. "You know I don't need to make you a list. You two have made it through so much, with and without each other. And now you have Willow. Don't give up on him, Katniss. I don't think Peeta is gone. Sure, he might be a little far off—"

"He doesn't know if he hates me or not," I interrupt but she glares at me and I stop.

"Who said you could fucking interrupt?" She shakes her head and continues. "Don't give up on him, Katniss. He let you touch him, didn't he?" She gestures to my stroking his hair, I didn't even realize I'd started again. "See? Don't give up on him."

"But—" I try again.

"Don't make me hurt you, Katniss," she sighs. "Because you know I will. Peeta nuts or not nuts. He's still alive, Katniss. Let's just try to remember that, okay?" She gets to her feet in order to move back to her sleeping bag.

"Johanna," I say catching her arm.

"Yeah?" she looks at me.

"We want Willow—" I sigh. "To call you 'Aunt Jo' or something like that." Her face crumples and she pulls away from me. I guess I should have anticipated this, but it's true. We want Willow to know her as an aunt. If anyone's deserved that, it's Johanna Mason. She kept me, and Peeta alive in the arena, and she's taken care of Willow when we can't. Beside her actual aunt, no one deserves the title more than her, and we're going to give it to her. If we live through this. A few more hours pass uneventfully.

Shortly before seven Gale and I move among the others, rousing them. There are the usual yawns and sighs that accompany waking. But my ears are picking up something else, too. Almost like a hissing. Perhaps it's only steam escaping a pipe or the far-off whoosh of one of the trains…

I hush the group to get a better read on it. There's a hissing, yes, but it's not one extended sound. More like multiple exhalations that form words. A single word. Echoing throughout the tunnels. One word. One name. Repeated over and over again.

_"Katniss."_

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_**Also, I ask again, since it's getting to that point in the story, please take the poll over on my bio, it would mean the world to me. And to those of you who review, you make my day all the time! I love you! And for the nearly 2000 of you that read this, thank you for your dedication to this. You're all wonderful.**_


	30. Chapter 30

_**Who lives? Who dies? Don't think too much about it...**_

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The grace period is over. They must have realized that we weren't dead after all. President Snow can't tolerate being made to look like a fool. It doesn't matter whether they tracked us to the second apartment or assumed we went directly underground. They know we are down here now and they've unleashed something, a pack of mutts probably, bent on finding me.

_"Katniss."_ I jump at the proximity of the sound. Look frantically for its source, bow loaded, seeking a target to hit. _"Katniss."_ Peeta's lips are barely moving, but there's no doubt, the name came out of him. Just when I thought he seemed a little better, when I thought he might be inching his way back to me—again—here is proof of how deep Snow's poison went. _"Katniss."_ Peeta's programmed to respond to the hissing chorus, to join the hunt. He's beginning to stir. There's no choice. I position my arrow to penetrate his brain. He'll barely feel a thing. Tears are silently falling down my face. I can't kill Peeta. I can't do it. Jackson was right. The thought about that moment startles me. Then suddenly, he's sitting up, eyes wide in alarm, short of breath. "Katniss!" He whips his head toward me but doesn't seem to notice my bow, the waiting arrow. "Katniss! Get out of here!"

I hesitate. His voice is alarmed, but not insane. "Why? What's making that sound?"

"I don't know. Only that it has to kill you," says Peeta. "Run! Get out! Go!"

My arms drop instantly. Of course I'm not going to shoot Peeta. I hurriedly wipe the tears from my eyes hoping that no one notices, but Peeta does. Maybe he's not so far gone after all. I snap back to reality. "What ever it is, it's after me. It might be a good time to split up."

"But we're your guard," says Jackson.

"And your crew," adds Cressida.

"I'm not leaving you," Gale says.

To my left I notice something cross Peeta's face. Jealousy? Peeta is jealous just from that one sentence…maybe there is more of him left there than I originally thought. Maybe I can get him back. We gather our things, switch some weapons around and get out of there as fast as we can. I imagine every single awful mutt that Peeta and I have ever seen, and my first thought, _I'm glad our daughter is nowhere near this._

We have covered about three more blocks via overflow pipe and a section of neglected train track when the screams begin. Thick, guttural. Bouncing off the tunnel walls.

"Avoxes," says Peeta immediately. "That's what Darius sounded like when they tortured him."

"The mutts must have found them," says Cressida.

How did we get here? Everyone ready to die for the Mockingjay. "Let me go on alone. Lead them off. I'll transfer the Holo to Jackson. The rest of you can finish the mission."

"No one's going to agree to that!" Jackson argues.

"We're wasting time!" says Finnick.

"Listen," Peeta whispers.

There it is again. My name.

A beam catches Messalla. He's still as a statue.

"Can't help him!" Peeta starts shoving people forward. "Can't!" Amazingly, he's the only one still functional enough to get us moving. I don't know why he's in control, when he should be flipping out and bashing my brains in, but that could happen any second. At the pressure of his hand against my shoulder, I turn away from the grisly thing that has Messalla; I make my feet go forward, fast, so fast that I can barely skid to a stop before the next intersection.

Peeta got me moving. Here he is, not being himself, and I move just because he touches my shoulder. There's always been a trust there, suppose ever since he gave me that bread, because he risked a beating to help me. He's risked so much for me. Oh, when will I stop owing him things? He's sacrificed so much for me…and what have I done in return? Nothing. I'm a sorry excuse for a wife…for a friend. Even before we were married he risked his life for me. Ugh, Peeta stop being so wonderful.

We make it through two more traps but not without casualties from our team. Jackson and Leeg 1 stayed behind to give us some time. They will most surely be dead. And so it's begun…people sacrificing themselves for the Mockingjay. I can't wait for this war to be over, maybe I'll have the opportunity to die for other people…so many have sacrificed so much for me already. They only way to truly repay them would be with my own life.

No mutt is good. All are meant to damage you. Some take your life, like the monkeys. Others your reason, like the tracker jackers. However, the true atrocities, the most frightening incorporate a perverse psychological twist designed to terrify the victim. The sight of the wolf mutts with the dead tributes' eyes. The sound of the jabberjays replicating Prim's tortured screams. The smell of Snow's roses mixed with the victims' blood. Carried across the sewer. Cutting through the foulness. Making my heart run wild, my skin turn to ice, my lungs unable to suck air. It's as if Snow's breathing right in my face, telling me it's time to die.

Just about everyone in our team is gone by the time we make it past some more. I watch as two other team members are ripped apart below. It takes Finnick, Johanna, and Gale to get me moving again. More deaths. More people dying for me. Dying for the Mockingjay…why won't they stop it already? I don't want people dying for me. I'm sick and tired of everyone dying for me!

Only one figure stays huddled against the wall. "Peeta," I say. There's no response. Has he blacked out? I crouch in front of him, pulling his cuffed hands from his face. "Peeta?" His eyes are like black pools, the pupils dilated so that the blue irises have all but vanished. The muscles in his wrists are hard as metal.

"Leave me," he whispers. "I can't hang on."

He is not leaving me like this! Snow is not going to win! I refuse! I absolutely refuse!

"Yes. You can!" I tell him.

Peeta shakes his head. "I'm losing it. I'll go mad. Like them."

Like the mutts. Like a rabid beast bent on ripping my throat out. And here, finally here in this place, in these circumstances, I will really have to kill him. And Snow will win. Hot, bitter hatred courses through me. Snow has won too much already today.

It's a long shot, it's suicide maybe, but I do the only thing I can think of. I lean in and kiss Peeta full on the mouth. His whole body starts shuddering, but I keep my lips pressed to his until I have to come up for air. My hands slide up his wrists to clasp his. "Don't let him take you from me."

Peeta's panting hard as he fights the nightmares raging in his head. "No. I don't want to…"

I clench his hands to the point of pain. "Stay with me."

His pupils contract to pinpoints, dilate again rapidly, and then return to something resembling normalcy. "Always," he murmurs.

I help Peeta up, but my chest is so tight I can barely breathe. Always. He said always. Anytime I asked him to stay, he replied with _"always."_ Every time. Every. Single. Time. Of course I love Peeta. There will never be anyone else for me but Peeta. I just wish he knew that. And maybe he does…somewhere. Somewhere in the web of lies surrounding him. Maybe he knows I love him still, somewhere deep down. I keep taking him for granted, and that really needs to stop. And Johanna's right, he is alive. And I really should be thankful for that, but it's just so hard seeing him like this.

Watching Peeta like this hurts more than words can say. Would all of this have happened if I'd just admitted my feelings after the first arena? It wasn't all just a game, I did care about him, I knew that much. Why couldn't I just admit that? How much different would things have been if I had? _The Games,_ I remind myself. They would still happen. Willow would be faced with the Games. She would have to take part in them, and I refuse to let that happen. I never would have knowingly and intentionally joined the rebellion without Peeta, as it was they had to drag me everywhere, until I saw him on tv. Until, I snapped. I really am a useless Mockingjay without Peeta. Oh, how I wish he were here now. But he's not. He's not here. Well, he is here, but the Peeta that I know is gone.

After a bit more running we jump through a window, there is a Capitol dressed woman but before she can say anything I shoot an arrow at her throat. If she'd wanted to say anything it was completely irrelevant now. She won't be speaking again. Just another person that I've killed. Just like Marvel. Shoot first, think later. Later I will feel guilty about this, later I will understand what I've just done. But for now I don't care.

"Let's check her closets," I say.

In one bedroom we find hundreds of the woman's outfits, coats, pairs of shoes, a rainbow of wigs, enough makeup to paint a house. In a bedroom across the hall, there's a similar selection for men. Perhaps they belong to her husband. Perhaps to a lover who had the good luck to be out this morning. Good luck? What is wrong with me today? I'm a wife, I'm a mother. Why is there no sympathy in what I've just done, why don't I feel bad for her husband, or feel guilty because he's going to find her dead later? Perhaps it's because my husband is on some other plain of existence right now. He is so far away from me. I can look at him, I can see him, but he's not the same. That Peeta Mellark…maybe he's gone forever…and if he is, how will I ever get him back?

I call the others to dress. At the sight of Peeta's bloody wrists, I dig in my pocket for the handcuff key, but he jerks away from me.

"No," he says. "Don't. They help hold me together."

"You might need your hands," says Gale.

"When I feel myself slipping, I dig my wrists into them, and the pain helps me focus," says Peeta. I let them be.

Fortunately, it's cold out, so we can conceal most of our uniforms and weapons under flowing coats and cloaks. We hang our boots around our necks by their laces and hide them, pull on silly shoes to replace them. The real challenge, of course, is our faces. Cressida and Pollux run the risk of being recognized by acquaintances, Gale could be familiar from the propos and news, and Peeta and I are known by every citizen of Panem. We hastily help one another apply thick layers of makeup, pull on wigs and sunglasses. Cressida wraps scarves over Peeta's and my mouths and noses.

I urge everyone to stay together as we venture out into the cold air. I ask Cressida if she knows where we might be able to go. Some place of refuge. She confers that there is, but it is not what she would consider "ideal" but it's the only thing we have so I tell her to lead on. We make it to a shop of mannequins in furry underwear. I suppose I see why Cressida said it wasn't ideal. Who wants to be in here? I think the risk of someone finding us is slim to none, but that's granting that the cat like woman in front of me is trustworthy enough that she wouldn't blow our cover. We have nowhere else to go at this point. Nowhere else to hide.

Cressida calls her by the name of Tigris. Says that Plutarch said she could be trusted. Plutarch isn't exactly on the top of my "most trusted advisors" list, but I have a feeling that if he trusts her and with how much Haymitch cares about Peeta and me, he'd never send us into the mouth of a lion. So I get the feeling that she has done something to earn that trust, and I'm not going to take that away from her. Perhaps I already owe her something for which I know nothing about. I guess it doesn't matter, since I'll be owing her again if she takes us in. She surely knows the risk for doing so. Yes, I owe Tigris something already. Just another person to add to my ever growing list.

Johanna nudges me, "she's one of the stylists. From before my Games." I nod.

Tigris leads us to a back wall and slides a panel over. She ushers us all in so, Gale, Peeta, Finnick, Pollux, Johanna, Cressida and I enter through the hole in the wall and climb down the steps into a dimly lit room. It's a small cellar with no doors or windows. Shallow and wide. Probably just a strip between two real basements. A place whose existence could go unnoticed unless you had a very keen eye for dimensions. It's cold and dank, with piles of pelts that I'm guessing haven't seen the light of day in years. Unless Tigris gives us up, I don't believe anyone will find us here. By the time I reach the concrete floor, my companions are on the steps. The panel slides back in place. I hear the underwear rack being adjusted on squeaky wheels. Tigris padding back to her stool. We have been swallowed up by her store.

While Cressida and Pollux make fur nests for each of us, I attend to Peeta's wrists. Gently rinsing away the blood, putting on an antiseptic, and bandaging them beneath the cuffs. "You've got to keep them clean, otherwise the infection could spread and —"

"I know what blood poisoning is, Katniss," says Peeta. "Even if my mother isn't a healer."

I'm jolted back in time, to another wound, another set of bandages. "You said that same thing to me in the first Hunger Games. Real or not real?"

"Real," he says. "And you risked your life getting the medicine that saved me?"

"Real." I shrug. "You were the reason I was alive to do it."

"Was I?" The comment throws him into confusion. Some shiny memory must be fighting for his attention, because his body tenses and his newly bandaged wrists strain against the metal cuffs. Then all the energy saps from his body. "I'm so tired, Katniss."

"Go to sleep," I say. He won't until I've rearranged his handcuffs and shackled him to one of the stair supports. It can't be comfortable, lying there with his arms above his head. But in a few minutes, he drifts off, too.

Oh, Peeta. My darling Peeta. What has happened to you? Why can't I protect you? I've failed you, so many times. You've risked so much for me and I have done nothing but failed you. You deserve so much better. Why can't I keep you safe? How much more is Snow going to put us through? No more. I'm not going to let him win anymore.

I force myself to fall asleep. The nightmares are not going to be nice to me tonight, not that nightmares ever are…but tonight they are going to be different. Tonight they are going to hurt. Tonight I will see everyone who's ever died for me, and I will see Peeta attacking me. _My nightmares are usually about losing you, I'm okay once I realize you're here._ Peeta's here, but there will be no rest for me tonight.

* * *

_**Sorry I couldn't help making you all freak out...no one is out of the woods yet though...**_


	31. Chapter 31

Like clockwork, I'm running. Running to something? Running from something? I can't even figure out what's going on before I sit bolt upright. I'm panting. I try to catch my breath and steal a glance at Peeta. He's looking at me.

"You okay, Katniss?" he asks.

"What?" I'm still groggy.

"Are you okay?" he asks again. "You were having a nightmare."

"Yeah," I shrug. "But I'm okay Peeta, thank you for asking."

"Uh huh," he says. "I just wanted to check."

He settles back into his space and I roll over and fall asleep again. This time I dream. I see a world where Peeta and I don't have to worry everyday that our children are going to be called in a reaping. A world and a time that seems so impossible now. I don't know what to expect from my future. I'd thought I did, and then Peeta relapsed. I'm completely incompetent. I don't know why they ever wanted to make me the Mockingjay in the first place.

Next morning is all planning. How the four victors and three others are going to get through the Capitol. My mission. That is the topic of conversation.

"You told everyone in Command!" Gale says. "It was one of your conditions for being the Mockingjay. 'I kill Snow.' "

Those seem like two disconnected things. Negotiating with Coin for the privilege of executing Snow after the war and this unauthorized flight through the Capitol. "But not like this," I say. "It's been a complete disaster."

"I think it would be considered a highly successful mission," says Gale. "We've infiltrated the enemy camp, showing that the Capitol's defenses can be breached. We've managed to get footage of ourselves all over the Capitol's news. We've thrown the whole city into chaos trying to find us."

"Trust me, Plutarch's thrilled," Cressida adds.

"That's because Plutarch doesn't care who dies," I say. "Not as long as his Games are a success."

Cressida and Gale go round and round trying to convince me. Pollux nods at their words to back them up. Only Peeta doesn't offer an opinion.

"What do you think, Peeta?" I finally ask him.

"I think . . . you still have no idea. The effect you can have." He slides his cuffs up the support and pushes himself to a sitting position. "None of the people we lost were idiots. They knew what they were doing. They followed you because they believed you really could kill Snow."

I don't know why his voice reaches me when no one else's can. But if he's right, and I think he is, I owe the others a debt that can only be repaid in one way. I've realized this before, but it must have taken hearing it come from Peeta that changed things. I don't know why, and I don't really understand, but Peeta's voice is what I hear, it's what I listen to and in my heart of hearts, I know he's right.

The group starts to talk about all the different ways to achieve my goal, but I know there's only one thing that we should do. "I bet he'd come out for me," I say. "If I were captured. He'd want that as public as possible. He'd want my execution on his front steps." I let this sink in. "Then Gale could shoot him from the audience."

"No." Peeta shakes his head. "There are too many alternative endings to that plan. Snow might decide to keep you and torture information out of you. Or have you executed publicly without being present. Or kill you inside the mansion and display your body out front."

"Gale?" I say.

"It seems like an extreme solution to jump to immediately," he says. "Maybe if all else fails. Let's keep thinking."

Tigris lets us up some time after that and let's us know that they have narrowed down the group of survivors to the seven of us. Peeta and I (Johanna and Finnick too, really) will be recognized immediately if we go out like we are now, and Peeta can't defend himself. So no, that is not an option. We talk more but I only half pay attention. As day turns into night we all realize how tired we are.

We change bandages, handcuff Peeta back to his support, and settle down to sleep. A few hours later, I slip back into consciousness and become aware of a quiet conversation. Peeta and Gale. I can't stop myself from eavesdropping.

"Thanks for the water," Peeta says.

"No problem," Gale replies. "I wake up ten times a night anyway."

"To make sure Katniss is still here?" asks Peeta.

"Something like that," Gale admits.

There's a long pause before Peeta speaks again. "That was funny, what Tigris said. About no one knowing what to do with her."

"Well, we never have," Gale says.

They both laugh. It's so strange to hear them talking like this. Almost like friends. Which they're not. Never have been. Although they're not exactly enemies.

"Gale," Peeta starts but then stops.

"Yes?" he urges Peeta on.

"I feel like I'm forgetting something important…" he sighs. "What is it?"

Gale sits in silence for quite awhile. Perhaps trying to figure out exactly what he should or shouldn't say. I'm just about to fall asleep when I hear Gale talk again. "There's some things, yeah." Then he stops.

"Like what?" Peeta prods.

"Well I don't know if you've noticed, Peeta," he sighs. "There's a ring on your finger, you know."

"I thought I'd just dreamt that."

"No," says Gale. "Katniss and you are married."

"Really?" he seems confused. Not surprised, just confused. Like he's not sure if he believes that or not. "I'm sure it was all for the Capitol."

"Have you really forgotten that much?" Gale sighs and I can feel his eyes on me.

"What have I forgotten, Gale?" he asks, less patient.

"You're a…" Gale hesitates. "It would probably be better coming from Katniss. I don't think it's my place." I can picture him shaking his head. "Better just wait till she gets up."

"She loves you, you know," says Peeta. "She as good as told me after they whipped you."

"Don't believe it," Gale answers. "The way she kissed you in the Quarter Quell . . . well, she never kissed me like that." He sighs, "and ever since we got you back from the Capitol. It's a different kind of love Peeta."

"It was just part of the show," Peeta tells him, although there's an edge of doubt in his voice.

"No, you won her over. Gave up everything for her. Maybe that's the only way to convince her you love her." There's a long pause. "I should have volunteered to take your place in the first Games. Protected her then."

"You couldn't," says Peeta. "She'd never have forgiven you. You had to take care of her family. They matter more to her than her life." I suppose that is true, but the only family my mind wanders to now, is Willow. My baby girl. My daughter.

"Well, it won't be an issue much longer. I think it's unlikely all three of us will be alive at the end of the war. And if we are, I guess it's Katniss's problem. Who to choose." Gale yawns. "We should get some sleep."

Who to choose? Hadn't I already? Did Gale really think that things would change just because of whatever's going on with Peeta? Does he still live in some delusional world where there could be anyone else for me besides Peeta? It's like he doesn't know me at all.

"Yeah." I hear Peeta's handcuffs slide down the support as he settles in. "I wonder how she'll make up her mind."

"Oh, that I do know." I can just catch Gale's last words through the layer of fur. "Katniss will pick whoever she thinks she can't survive without."

"_Can't survive without"_?Haven't I already had to do a lot of surviving without them? I suppose that was more like just going through the motions…I never really was surviving. The doctors were convinced I would miscarry, that says a whole lot of nothing about my "survival" skills. No Peeta, and I was pretty useless. Peeta cracks up now, and I just don't know what to think or what to do. I almost wish Johanna was up so she could scold me, but she needs rest and I don't have the heart to wake her.

The next day we learn what it's like in the Capitol right now. Someone that looked "exactly like" Peeta—total lie, this guy look as much like Peeta, as I do—was killed. Now apparently they have to report any rebel sightings, which is probably a good thing.

After dinner I offer to take care of the dishes. Gale gets up quickly, "I'll give you a hand." He grabs all the dishes by him.

I feel Peeta's eyes follow us out of the room. Sometimes I don't even need to look at him to feel the jealousy. I don't know why Peeta is so self-conscious. I love him. I've told him as much…but did he really forget that. Did he forget that I told him I loved him? The thought is excruciating. I guess I stubbornly thought that something like that would stay with him, even if just in his subconscious. I want to blow something up or hit something…I need Peeta back.

Tigris watches through the shutters for the right moment, unbolts the door, and nods to Cressida and Pollux. "Take care," Cressida says, and they are gone.

We'll be following in a minute. I get out the key, unlock Peeta's cuffs, and stuff them in my pocket. He rubs his wrists. Flexes them. I feel a kind of desperation rising up in me. It's like I'm back in the Quarter Quell, with Beetee giving Johanna and me that coil of wire.

"Listen," I say. "Don't do anything foolish."

"No. It's last-resort stuff. Completely," he says.

I wrap my arms around his neck, feel his arms hesitate before they embrace me. Not as steady as they once were, but still warm and strong. A thousand moments surge through me. All the times these arms were my only refuge from the world. Perhaps not fully appreciated then, but so sweet in my memory, and now gone forever. "All right, then." I release him.

"It's time," says Tigris. I kiss her cheek, fasten my red hooded cloak, pull my scarf up over my nose, and follow Gale out into the frigid air.

It's all I can do to keep myself from crying. We have Peeta ready to start some commotion if necessary, and to have him so close and ready to disturb all the peace around terrifies me. I'm not losing him again, especially not to a crowd of scared Capitolites. No. I'm not losing Peeta again. I refuse.

We make our way out onto the crowded street. Peacekeepers are ushering people here and there trying to keep the flow of traffic moving. Cressida and Pollux are about thirty yards ahead of us. Finnick and Johanna are about fifteen yards ahead of us. Then there is Gale and I, and Peeta is behind us. As we make our way down the street, I crane my head back to check on Peeta. He's gone. I start to have a panic attack when I face forward and Johanna is glaring at me. Boy, when she wants something done she doesn't hold anything back. No hostility, no anger. Nothing. It's all on all the time.

We keep making our way towards the presidents mansion and everything is such a blur. All that I can think about is someone finding Peeta and then torturing him again. The thought is almost crippling. I can't take this, it hurts too much. Pods start going off. The rebels have arrived. There's shooting. Everything is happening at once.

The wind whips the snow into blinding swirls but doesn't block out the sound of another wave of boots headed our way.

"Get down!" I hiss at Gale. We drop where we are. My face lands in a still-warm pool of someone's blood, but I play dead, remain motionless as the boots march over us. Some avoid the bodies. Others grind into my hand, my back, kick my head in passing. As the boots recede, I open my eyes and nod to Gale.

On the next block, we encounter more terrified refugees, but few soldiers. Just when it seems we might have caught a break, there's a cracking sound, like an egg hitting the side of a bowl but magnified a thousand times. We stop, look around for the pod. There's nothing. Then I feel the tips of my boots beginning to tilt ever so slightly. "Run!" I cry to Gale. There's no time to explain, but in a few seconds the nature of the pod becomes clear to everyone. A seam has opened up down the center of the block. The two sides of the tiled street are folding down like flaps, slowly emptying the people into whatever lies beneath.

I don't even know what's happening. One minute the road is falling away beneath my feet and I don't know where we are, and my heart aches for all the people who could not get away from this pod. There's nothing I can do now.

"Gale?" I call into the abyss, heedless of being recognized. "Gale?"

"Over here!" I look in bewilderment to my left. The flap held up everything to the very base of the buildings. A dozen or so people made it that far and now hang from whatever provides a handhold. Doorknobs, knockers, mail slots. Three doors down from me, Gale clings to the decorative iron grating around an apartment door. He could easily get inside if it was open. But despite repeated kicks to the door, no one comes to his aid.

"Cover yourself!" I lift my gun. He turns away and I drill the lock until the door flies inward. Gale swings into the doorway, landing in a heap on the floor. For a moment, I experience the elation of his rescue. Then the white-gloved hands clamp down on him. The Peacekeepers are hauling him inside now. "Go!" I hear him yell.

I turn and run away from the pod. All alone now. Gale a prisoner. Cressida and Pollux could be dead ten times over. And Peeta? I haven't laid eyes on him since we left Tigris's. I hold on to the idea that he may have gone back. Felt an attack coming and retreated to the cellar while he still had control. Realized there was no need for a diversion when the Capitol has provided so many. No need to be bait and have to take the nightlock — the nightlock! Gale doesn't have any. And as for all that talk of detonating his arrows by hand, he'll never get the chance. The first thing the Peacekeepers will do is to strip him of his weapons.

There's a huddle of Capitol children corralled together, as a mother I want to run to them to get them out of there. To make sure that they're safe but I stand frozen. Everyone inside the barricade is a child. Toddlers to teenagers. Scared and frostbitten. Huddled in groups or rocking numbly on the ground. They aren't being led into the mansion. They're penned in, guarded on all sides by Peacekeepers. I know immediately it's not for their protection. If the Capitol wanted to safeguard them, they'd be down in a bunker somewhere. This is for Snow's protection. The children form his human shield. Human shield? Oh god. He's brought the Games outside.

A hovercraft marked with the Capitol's seal materializes directly over the barricaded children. Scores of silver parachutes rain down on them. Even in this chaos, the children know what silver parachutes contain. Food. Medicine. Gifts. They eagerly scoop them up, frozen fingers struggling with the strings. The hovercraft vanishes, five seconds pass, and then about twenty parachutes simultaneously explode.

A wail rises from the crowd. The snow's red and littered with undersized body parts. Many of the children die immediately, but others lie in agony on the ground. Some stagger around mutely, staring at the remaining silver parachutes in their hands, as if they still might have something precious inside. I can tell the Peacekeepers didn't know this was coming by the way they are yanking away the barricades, making a path to the children. Another flock of white uniforms sweeps into the opening. But these aren't Peacekeepers. They're medics. Rebel medics. I'd know the uniforms anywhere. They swarm in among the children, wielding medical kits.

First I get a glimpse of the blond braid down her back. Then, as she yanks off her coat to cover a wailing child, I notice the duck tail formed by her untucked shirt. I have the same reaction I did the day Effie Trinket called her name at the reaping. At least, I must go limp, because I find myself at the base of the flagpole, unable to account for the last few seconds. Then I am pushing through the crowd, just as I did before. Trying to shout her name above the roar. I'm almost there, almost to the barricade, when I think she hears me. Because for just a moment, she catches sight of me, her lips form my name. And I see Peeta charging forward. At least now I know where he is.

And that's when the rest of the parachutes go off.

* * *

_**I'm sorry guys...her death really is essential to the plot of Katniss' story. I save Prim and I have to change everything, everything that Katniss believed...why she was fighting. You save Prim and you lose some integrity of the story. (Not saying it can't be done, to each his own, but for me there was no other way around this.) Please don't hate me...I wrestled with the end of this chapter for five hours, so it wasn't an easy call to make.**_

_**On another note, thank you so much for reading! And for all your wonderful reviews! :-) I love you all!**_


	32. Chapter 32

_**I'm spoiling you guys this week...**_

* * *

In the moment it takes me to forget who I am, or where I'm at a guttural scream escapes my lips. I've just lost Prim, please don't tell me I've lost Peeta too. I can't take that. I cannot lose Peeta. We've been through too much, I care about him too much. I'll just be honest the list is quite endless.

"Peeta!" I turn to run in his direction but every eye turns to me, including Peeta's. I don't know how, but he I up and charging in my direction.

"Katniss!" he screams. "I remember! I remember everything!"

How?

How could he possibly remember everything?

I take a few steps towards him, but then I feel myself falling. My eyes roll back as the lids shut. Two strong arms catch me and as the consciousness seeps away from my body I make out one more word.

"Katniss!"

I don't know how long I've been out, but when I wake up I'm in a Capitol hospital. I don't know what's going on with me, or what they're doing to me. They are telling me, but the only thought that registers, _Peeta remembers?_ I don't know what's going on. Part of me is scared. What's happened to Peeta? Am I dead? The doctors explain more, that I don't hear or acknowledge. I don't care about anything. I just saw Prim die. Die. My sister is dead. This whole thing started with Prim. I volunteered for her, in so doing sealed my fate as the Mockingjay. It was that moment that I had signed my life away to the Capitol without knowing it. The funny thing is—morbidly funny—that I probably would have ended up like Finnick in the Capitol, if it hadn't been for Peeta. Apparently that's another thing I owe him.

I try to speak up, but I cannot talk. I need to know where Peeta is. I need to know that he is safe, but while I know what to say I cannot form the words and so they hang in my throat like a damp rag. Not willing to release my voice. I need to know where Peeta is. Maybe I'll never know. Maybe they've killed him. Maybe Coin decided that since I was unconscious that Peeta's life was no longer protected. I don't know.

One day I awake to expectations and know I will not be allowed to live in my dreamland. I must take food by mouth. Move my own muscles. Make my way to the bathroom. A brief appearance by President Coin clinches it.

"Don't worry," she says. "I've saved him for you."

The time draws near, although I could not give you exact hours and minutes. President Snow has been tried and found guilty, sentenced to execution. Haymitch tells me, I hear talk of it as I drift past the guards in the hallways. My Mockingjay suit arrives in my room. Also my bow, looking no worse for wear, but no sheath of arrows. Either because they were damaged or more likely because I shouldn't have weapons. I vaguely wonder if I should be preparing for the event in some way, but nothing comes to mind.

Late one afternoon, after a long period in a cushioned window seat behind a painted screen, I emerge and turn left instead of right. I find myself in a strange part of the mansion, and immediately lose my bearings. Unlike the area where I'm quartered, there seems to be no one around to ask. I like it, though. Wish I'd found it sooner. It's so quiet, with the thick carpets and heavy tapestries soaking up the sound. Softly lit. Muted colors. Peaceful. Until I smell the roses. I dive behind some curtains, shaking too hard to run, while I await the mutts. Finally, I realize there are no mutts coming. So, what do I smell? Real roses? Could it be that I am near the garden where the evil things grow?

I run into guards as I wander around the mansion. I know what's behind them, but they won't let me pass. Mercifully Paylor—the woman from District 8—shows up and lets me enter the room. Snow's here. I can feel it. I should like very much to kill him now, but with his execution looming, there really is no point to do it now.

At the end of a short hallway, I push apart the glass doors and step inside. By now the smell's so strong that it begins to flatten out, as if there's no more my nose can absorb. The damp, mild air feels good on my hot skin. And the roses are glorious. Row after row of sumptuous blooms, in lush pink, sunset orange, and even pale blue. I wander through the aisles of carefully pruned plants, looking but not touching, because I have learned the hard way how deadly these beauties can be. I know when I find it, crowning the top of a slender bush. A magnificent white bud just beginning to open. I pull my left sleeve over my hand so that my skin won't actually have to touch it, take up a pair of pruning shears, and have just positioned them on the stem when he speaks.

"That's a nice one."

My hand jerks, the shears snap shut, severing the stem.

"The colors are lovely, of course, but nothing says perfection like white."

I still can't see him, but his voice seems to rise up from an adjacent bed of red roses. Delicately pinching the stem of the bud through the fabric of my sleeve, I move slowly around the corner and find him sitting on a stool against the wall. He's as well groomed and finely dressed as ever, but weighted down with manacles, ankle shackles, tracking devices. In the bright light, his skin's a pale, sickly green. He holds a white handkerchief spotted with fresh blood. Even in his deteriorated state, his snake eyes shine bright and cold. "I was hoping you'd find your way to my quarters."

"There are so many things we should discuss, but I have a feeling your visit will be brief. So, first things first." He begins to cough, and when he removes the handkerchief from his mouth, it's redder. "I wanted to tell you how very sorry I am about your sister."

Even in my deadened, drugged condition, this sends a stab of pain through me. Reminding me that there are no limits to his cruelty. And how he will go to his grave trying to destroy me.

"So wasteful, so unnecessary. Anyone could see the game was over by that point. In fact, I was just about to issue an official surrender when they released those parachutes." His eyes are glued on me, unblinking, so as not to miss a second of my reaction. But what he's said makes no sense. When they released the parachutes? "Well, you really didn't think I gave the order, did you? Forget the obvious fact that if I'd had a working hovercraft at my disposal, I'd have been using it to make an escape. But that aside, what purpose could it have served? We both know I'm not above killing children, but I'm not wasteful. I take life for very specific reasons. And there was no reason for me to destroy a pen full of Capitol children. None at all."

"However, I must concede it was a masterful move on Coin's part. The idea that I was bombing our own helpless children instantly snapped whatever frail allegiance my people still felt to me. There was no real resistance after that. Did you know it aired live? You can see Plutarch's hand there. And in the parachutes. Well, it's that sort of thinking that you look for in a Head Gamemaker, isn't it?" Snow dabs the corners of his mouth. "I'm sure he wasn't gunning for your sister, but these things happen."

I'm not with Snow now. I'm in Special Weaponry back in 13 with Gale and Beetee. Looking at the designs based on Gale's traps. That played on human sympathies. The first bomb killed the victims. The second, the rescuers. Remembering Gale's words.

_ "Beetee and I have been following the same rule book President Snow used when he hijacked Peeta."_

"My failure," says Snow, "was being so slow to grasp Coin's plan. To let the Capitol and districts destroy one another, and then step in to take power with Thirteen barely scratched. Make no mistake, she was intending to take my place right from the beginning. I shouldn't be surprised. After all, it was Thirteen that started the rebellion that led to the Dark Days, and then abandoned the rest of the districts when the tide turned against it. But I wasn't watching Coin. I was watching you, Mockingjay. And you were watching me. I'm afraid we have both been played for fools."

I refuse for this to be true. Some things even I can't survive. I utter my first words since my sister's death and screaming Peeta's name. "I don't believe you."

Snow shakes his head in mock disappointment. "Oh, my dear Miss Everdeen. I thought we had agreed not to lie to each other." He's right. We had agreed, back when he threatened me about Gale. About killing my family. He wasn't lying then, so why would he now? A promise is a promise, no matter how vile a person it comes from. No. Snow is telling the truth.

I leave the area and my thoughts are a whirlwind. Then what's nagging at me? Those double-exploding bombs, for one. It's not that the Capitol couldn't have the same weapon, it's just that I'm sure the rebels did. Gale and Beetee's brainchild. Then there's the fact that Snow made no escape attempt, when I know him to be the consummate survivor. It seems hard to believe he didn't have a retreat somewhere, some bunker stocked with provisions where he could live out the rest of his snaky little life. And finally, there's his assessment of Coin. What's irrefutable is that she's done exactly what he said. Let the Capitol and the districts run one another into the ground and then sauntered in to take power. Even if that was her plan, it doesn't mean she dropped those parachutes. Victory was already in her grasp. Everything was in her grasp.

Except me.

I recall Boggs's response when I admitted I hadn't put much thought into Snow's successor. "If your immediate answer isn't Coin, then you're a threat. You're the face of the rebellion. You may have more influence than any other single person. Outwardly, the most you've ever done is tolerated her."

Suddenly, I'm thinking of Prim, who was not yet fourteen, not yet old enough to be granted the title of soldier, but somehow working on the front lines. How did such a thing happen? That my sister would have wanted to be there, I have no doubt. That she would be more capable than many older than she is a given. But for all that, someone very high up would have had to approve putting a thirteen-year-old in combat. Did Coin do it, hoping that losing Prim would push me completely over the edge? Or, at least, firmly on her side? I wouldn't even have had to witness it in person. Numerous cameras would be covering the City Circle. Capturing the moment forever.

No, now I am going crazy, slipping into some state of paranoia. Too many people would know of the mission. Word would get out. Or would it? Who would have to know besides Coin, Plutarch, and a small, loyal or easily disposable crew?

I badly need help working this out. Ultimately, there's only one person to turn to who might know what happened and might still be on my side. To broach the subject at all will be a risk. But while I think Haymitch might gamble with my life in the arena, I don't think he'd rat me out to Coin. Whatever problems we may have with each other, we prefer resolving our differences one-on-one.

I get to his room. He's stone cold drunk. Here we go again. I pick the pitcher of water up and throw it at him. Hopefully this won't fail me and will wake him up. I hop back as he starts waving his knife around in the air.

"Haymitch," I begin.

"Listen to that. The Mockingjay found her voice." He laughs. "Well, Plutarch's going to be happy." He takes a swig from a bottle. "Why am I soaking wet?" I lamely drop the pitcher behind me into a pile of dirty clothes.

"I need your help," I say.

Haymitch belches, filling the air with white liquor fumes. "What is it, sweetheart? More boy trouble?" I don't know why, but this hurts me in a way Haymitch rarely can. It must show on my face, because even in his drunken state, he tries to take it back. "Okay, not funny." I'm already at the door. "Not funny! Come back!" By the thud of his body hitting the floor, I assume he tried to follow me, but there's no point.

I guess I took the Thirteen Haymitch for granted. This one is back, and while I care about him, I've never much cared for his drunkenness. I'll forgive him eventually, but what he said really hurt me. And I'm not in a very forgiving mood today.

Haymitch does come later, and while we don't act like we had in Thirteen. I've forgiven him enough to get through the day. He's told me to take a shower and my ever-faithful prep team readies me for the execution. I guess that must be today. In the bedroom, I find another surprise. Sitting upright in a chair. Polished from her metallic gold wig to her patent leather high heels, gripping a clipboard. Remarkably unchanged except for the vacant look in her eyes.

"Effie," I say.

"Hello, Katniss." She stands and kisses me on the cheek as if nothing has occurred since our last meeting, the night before the Quarter Quell. "Well, it looks like we've got another big, big, big day ahead of us. So why don't you start your prep and I'll just pop over and check on the arrangements."

"Okay," I say back to her.

"They say Plutarch and Haymitch had a hard time keeping her alive," comments Venia under her breath. "She was imprisoned after your escape, so that helps."

There's a tap at the door and Gale steps in. "Can I have a minute?" he asks. In the mirror, I watch my prep team. Unsure of where to go, they bump into one another a few times and then closet themselves in the bathroom. Gale comes up behind me and we examine each other's reflection. I'm searching for something to hang on to, some sign of the girl and boy who met by chance in the woods five years ago and became inseparable. I'm wondering what would have happened to them if the Hunger Games had not reaped the girl. If she would have fallen in love with the boy, married him even. And sometime in the future, when the brothers and sisters had been raised up, escaped with him into the woods and left 12 behind forever. Would they have been happy, out in the wild, or would the dark, twisted sadness between them have grown up even without the Capitol's help?

"I brought you this." Gale holds up a sheath. When I take it, I notice it holds a single, ordinary arrow. "It's supposed to be symbolic. You firing the last shot of the war."

"What if I miss?" I say. "Does Coin retrieve it and bring it back to me? Or just shoot Snow through the head herself?"

"You won't miss." Gale adjusts the sheath on my shoulder.

We stand there, face-to-face, not meeting each other's eyes. "You didn't come see me in the hospital." He doesn't answer, so finally I just say it. "Was it your bomb?"

"I don't know. Neither does Beetee," he says. "Does it matter? You'll always be thinking about it."

He waits for me to deny it; I want to deny it, but it's true. Even now I can see the flash that ignites her, feel the heat of the flames. And I will never be able to separate that moment from Gale. My silence is my answer.

"That was the one thing I had going for me. Taking care of your family," he says. "Shoot straight, okay?" He touches my cheek and leaves. I want to call him back and tell him that I was wrong. That I'll figure out a way to make peace with this. To remember the circumstances under which he created the bomb. Take into account my own inexcusable crimes. Dig up the truth about who dropped the parachutes. Prove it wasn't the rebels. Forgive him. But since I can't, I'll just have to deal with the pain.

Just as I think we're about to head to the execution I'm led to another room. There are seven people sitting around a table. Peeta, Johanna, Finnick, Beetee, Haymitch, Annie, and Enobaria. They're all wearing the grey uniforms of Thirteen. Is that what life will be like with Coin in charge? Just another version of Snow? Just another type of Games?

"What's this?" I ask.

"We don't know," says Peeta.

"They seem to be gathering all the remaining victors together," says Haymitch.

"We're all that's left?" I ask.

"The price of celebrity," says Beetee. He explains that the Capitol targeted the victors they thought were rebels, and the rebels killed those they thought were supportive of the Capitol. They obliterated our entire kind.

"Then what's she doing here?" Johanna asks scowling at Enobaria.

"She is protected under what we call the Mockingjay Deal," says Coin as she enters behind me. "Wherein Katniss Everdeen agreed to support the rebels in exchange for captured victors' immunity. Katniss has upheld her side of the bargain, and so shall we."

Enobaria smiles at Johanna. "Don't look so smug," says Johanna. "We'll kill you anyway."

Coin urges me to take a seat, but the only one open is between Johanna and Haymitch. It's probably best if Peeta and I don't have a reunion here anyways. Our eyes lock on each other though. There's such intensity in his gaze that almost reminds me of when we were in the arena, and he was telling me that I needed to live for my family. She explains that those in her counsel could not determine something and so it has fallen to the past victors to decide. The idea that we have one last Hunger Games, but only with the children from the Capitol. At first I'm conflicted, but then I know my answer.

All eight of us turn to her. "What?" says Johanna.

"Are you joking?" asks Peeta.

"No. I should also tell you that if we do hold the Games, it will be known it was done with your approval, although the individual breakdown of your votes will be kept secret for your own security," Coin tells us.

"Was this Plutarch's idea?" asks Haymitch.

"It was mine," says Coin. "It seemed to balance the need for vengeance with the least loss of life. You may cast your votes."

"No!" bursts out Peeta. "I vote no, of course! We can't have another Hunger Games!"

"Why not?" Johanna retorts. "It seems very fair to me. Snow even has a granddaughter. I vote yes."

"So do I," says Enobaria, almost indifferently. "Let them have a taste of their own medicine."

"This is why we rebelled! Remember?" Peeta looks at the rest of us. "Annie?"

"I vote no with Peeta," she says, Finnick nods in agreement.

"No," says Beetee. "It would set a bad precedent. We have to stop viewing one another as enemies. At this point, unity is essential for our survival. No."

"We're down to Katniss and Haymitch," says Coin.

Peeta's staring at me, his eyes pleading.

"I vote yes…" I start.

"Katniss!" Peeta yells at me.

"For Prim," I finish.

"Haymitch, it's up to you," says Coin.

A furious Peeta hammers Haymitch with the atrocity he could become party to, but I can feel Haymitch watching me. This is the moment, then. When we find out exactly just how alike we are, and how much he truly understands me.

"I'm with the Mockingjay," he says.

Peeta is fuming.

"Excellent. I say yes, as well. That carries the vote," says Coin. "Now we really must take our places for the execution."

As she passes me, I hold up the glass with the rose. "Can you see that Snow's wearing this? Just over his heart?"

Coin smiles. "Of course. And I'll make sure he knows about the Games."

"Thank you," I say.

We make our way out to the terrace of the mansion.

I take the arrow in my hand. I feel the bow purring in my hand. Reach back and grasp the arrow. Position it, aim at the rose, but watch his face. He coughs and a bloody dribble runs down his chin. His tongue flicks over his puffy lips. I search his eyes for the slightest sign of anything, fear, remorse, anger. But there's only the same look of amusement that ended our last conversation. It's as if he's speaking the words again. _"Oh, my dear Miss Everdeen. I thought we had agreed not to lie to each other."_

He's right. We did.

The point of my arrow shifts upward. I release the string. And President Coin collapses over the side of the balcony and plunges to the ground. Dead.

As the gray uniforms begin to converge on me, I think of what my brief future as the assassin of Panem's new president holds. The interrogation, probable torture, certain public execution. Having, yet again, to say my final good-byes to the handful of people who still maintain a hold on my heart. Willow will be fine, she has Peeta and Johanna, she'll never be in want for anything. Peeta will be alright, maybe not right now. But he'll be alright.

"Good night," I whisper to the bow in my hand and feel it go still. I raise my left arm and twist my neck down to rip off the pill on my sleeve. Instead my teeth sink into flesh. I yank my head back in confusion to find myself looking into Peeta's eyes, only now they hold my gaze. Blood runs from the teeth marks on the hand he clamped over my nightlock. "Let me go!" I snarl at him, trying to wrest my arm from his grasp.

"I can't," he says.

Peeta won't let me go. The Games are finally over.

"It's what you and I do," he says staring into my eyes. "Protect each other."

* * *

_**I finally have all my stories up on my AO3 as well. Same url. Thank you all, for being such amazing people! (Don't worry, the story isn't done yet...)**_


	33. Chapter 33

I just barely see Gale run forward in my defense, but Peeta stops him.

"Stop," Peeta says, arms out.

"Peeta," Gale scolds.

"No," says Peeta flatly. "Stop trying to rescue her all the time. She can handle herself."

"Does it look like she's handling herself?" Gale says thrusting an arm in my direction.

No. I'm not handling myself well right now, at all. I can feel the consciousness disappearing from my body as I slowly begin to fall backwards.

"It's not your job anymore, Gale."

"Oh! And it's yours?" Gale's voice is raising.

"Yes," says Peeta. "It's mine." Peeta's sweet authoritative, _protective_, voice is the last thing I hear for days.

I'm in the same room that Peeta and I were staying in before the Quell. No one comes to see me, but I suppose that's no surprise. I killed Coin, that wasn't part of my negotiation. My whole deal if probably null and void now. I'll lose everyone that I care about, for sure. My daughter will most surely be left without parents. What other option do they have? I killed Alma Coin, but I don't regret it. She didn't need that much power, oh she'd like to think she did, but if Snow says she doesn't and I hate him…well, that's cause enough for caution. _"My dear Miss Everdeen, I thought we had agreed not to lie to each other." _He's right. We did, and it's because of that, that I believe him. I've never trusted Snow a day in my life, but there, arrow ready to fly at him that I decided to trust the man I despise the most.

I sleep a lot. There's nothing else to do, but the nightmares are unbearable. I want Peeta, no. I _need_ Peeta. These dreams alone could kill me. I sleep, and I'm in agonizing pain. I wake and there's just an undeniable, more of the same. I'm brought food, but it doesn't help. I can't eat. The days are agonizing, the nightmares are traumatic. I will never see anyone again. I'll never see Willow again. I'll never hold her in my arms, feel her breath on my skin, see her grow up. Nothing. Of course not, they wouldn't spare my life. I killed Coin. My own death seems to be the only option now. I would welcome death. It is a much better option than suffering from these dreams for the rest of my life. They wouldn't keep me locked away for the rest of my life, would they? That would be a worse fate than death.

I start to cry. It's as if every bad feeling, every horrible thought that I've had over the past several months is drowning me. Everything, every fear has been renewed. There is nothing, no one to save me. I've reached a hysterical cry more than once, but there's no shot in my arm to calm me down. I've been gasping for breath, I've felt my lungs struggle to get any breath. I guess I took those shots for granted, because here there is no shot to dull the pain. Here, in this place, there is nothing to stop me from losing it. Even Johanna would be welcome company right now.

Just when I think I might be feeling better, just when I think I might be able to breathe again, I'm reminded of Prim. My sister. She died. Prim. She was the reason that I became the Mockingjay, because I volunteered for her. This whole war was started because I volunteered, because I chose to sacrifice myself for her…and in the end I lost her anyways.

"I'm sorry, Prim," I squeak. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you." I haven't talked in what's most certainly been weeks. Weeks that I haven't seen anyone. I've never been left to my own thoughts so much in my life. At least in Thirteen I had Gale, and Finnick. I had something to take my mind off of just how bad my situation in life was. Here I have nothing of the kind. No one to help me through this. I just want to die. Death would be welcome company now, compared to this.

The rings on my finger, the one's Peeta gave to me, is the only way I can tell whether something was a dream or a reality. Is this how he's felt when we played "Real or Not Real?" Because I can see why he would. It's hard to know the difference, but at least I have something of Peeta's, some piece of Peeta with me here.

I see snow falling on my windowsill. How many months must have passed…if I make it out of this, Willow won't know who I am. She won't know I'm her mother. I must have been here some four or five months when Haymitch enters my room. Haymitch. So he's made it to the Capitol then.

"Your trial's over," he says. "Come on. We're going home."

"Home? What's he talking about? My home's gone. And even if it were possible to go to this imaginary place, I am too weak to move. Strangers appear. Rehydrate and feed me. Bathe and clothe me. One lifts me like a rag doll and carries me up to the roof, onto a hovercraft, and fastens me into a seat. Haymitch and Plutarch sit across from me. In a few moments, we're airborne.

I've never seen Plutarch in such a good mood. He's positively glowing. "You must have a million questions!" When I don't respond, he answers them anyway."

After I shot Coin, there was pandemonium. When the ruckus died down, they discovered Snow's body, still tethered to the post. Opinions differ on whether he choked to death while laughing or was crushed by the crowd. No one really cares. An emergency election was thrown together and Paylor was voted in as president. Plutarch was appointed secretary of communications, which means he sets the programming for the airwaves. The first big televised event was my trial, in which he was also a star witness. In my defense, of course. Although most of the credit for my exoneration must be given to Dr. Aurelius, who apparently earned his naps by presenting me as a hopeless, shell-shocked lunatic. One condition for my release is that I'll continue under his care, although it will have to be by phone because he'd never live in a forsaken place like 12, and I'm confined there until further notice. The truth is, no one quite knows what to do with me now that the war's over, although if another one should spring up, Plutarch's sure they could find a role for me. Then Plutarch has a good laugh. It never seems to bother him when no one else appreciates his jokes.

"Are you preparing for another war, Plutarch?" I ask."

"Oh, not now. Now we're in that sweet period where everyone agrees that our recent horrors should never be repeated," he says. "But collective thinking is usually short-lived. We're fickle, stupid beings with poor memories and a great gift for self-destruction. Although who knows? Maybe this will be it, Katniss."

"What?" I ask.

"The time it sticks. Maybe we are witnessing the evolution of the human race. Think about that." This is the last thing Plutarch says to me, before we land in Three to drop him off. I can't say I'm not glad that he is gone.

"So why are you going back to Twelve?" I ask Haymitch.

"They can't seem to find a place for me in the Capitol either," he says.

Then it occurs to me. "You have to look after me, don't you? As my mentor?" He shrugs. Then I realize what he means. "My mother's not coming back."

"No," he says. "She's going to help start a hospital in Four. You know why she can't come back."

I nod. It would be too painful for her, without my father and Prim. Just about everything is destroyed. Not everything is worth rebuilding, and that must be what my relationship with my mother is…no worth rebuilding.

"She wants you to call as soon as you get in."

I nod.

"You want to know who else won't be there?"

"No," I say. "I want to be surprised." Haymitch doesn't answer, and I think he understands why I don't want to know. But I already know, Peeta won't be there. Willow won't be there. Perhaps they thought I should not be a mother and sent Willow and Peeta somewhere else…somewhere far away from me. I probably wouldn't trust someone in my state, with a tiny baby, so I can see why they wouldn't either.

We land in Twleve. Half the houses have lights on in the windows, including Haymitch's and mine—the one I lived in with my mother and Prim—I suppose I don't get the house I lived in with Peeta either. I don't know why this surprises me, but I go to my house and collapse into a chair. I am truly alone now.

As more time passes Greasy Sae turns up to fix me something to eat, stays till I finish it and then leaves. She repeats this everyday. While sometimes her company is welcome, there are other times where it is not. She brings her granddaughter sometimes, but when she's here all she asks me about is the Games Peeta and I were in, or the war we've just won. Neither are topics I wish to discuss, but I answer them, as vaguely as possible. Everyone for the rest of time will know my name, and know who I am, and what I did for this war to be over. Willow will find out about her mother from a classroom, she'll never be able to ask her any of the burning questions. She'll never be able to question her about when she fell in love with her father. No. They won't bring Willow to me. I shall have to live the rest of my life alone, with only Greasy Sae, her food, and her granddaughter.

Haymitch has come over, once or twice, but he's been completely intoxicated and carrying another bottle with him. I don't know why it should surprise me that this version of Haymitch is back. Why had I expected the Haymitch from Thirteen to remain. Well, I'm sure it does, to an extent, but he will never give that good of advice again. Though, to be fair he made the _"You could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve him, you know," _comment completely inebriated, so I guess anything can happen…even a sober thought from a drunken Haymitch.

But I know why he drinks. He lost those he cared about, because of what he did in the arena. I've lost all of those I care about because of what I've done, in and out of the arena. I'm doomed to live alone for the rest of my life. I cry constantly, and when the tears won't come I dry heave for hours. Nothing brings me relief. I cannot breathe in this house, but there' nowhere else to go. The meadow's been burned down; it will take years for anything to grow back there. It holds no sense of adventure to me anymore. Food is brought to me. I don't need to cook it. I don't need to do anything, so I sit in this chair day after day.

I find myself from time to time, thinking about Peeta. About his blue eyes, about how much he loves me, how much I love him. But thinking about Peeta is never a good idea, this brings on tears unlike any other. I'm not sure who I cry for most, Peeta or Willow…I'm inclined to think the former. I love Willow, more than you might think possible, but with all that Peeta and I have gone though, how I've lost him and gotten him back only to lose him again. Yes, at this moment, I miss Peeta about a thousand times more.

I fall asleep on the sofa in the formal living room. A terrible nightmare follows, where I'm lying at the bottom of a deep grave, and every dead person I know by name comes by and throws a shovel full of ashes on me. It's quite a long dream, considering the list of people, and the deeper I'm buried, the harder it is to breathe. I try to call out, begging them to stop, but the ashes fill my mouth and nose and I can't make any sound. Still the shovel scrapes on and on and on. . . .

I wake with a start. Pale morning light comes around the edges of the shutters. The scraping of the shovel continues. Still half in the nightmare, I run down the hall, out the front door, and around the side of the house, because now I'm pretty sure I can scream at the dead. When I see him, I pull up short. His face is flushed from digging up the ground under the windows. In a wheelbarrow are five scraggly bushes.

"You're back," I say.

"Dr. Aurelius wouldn't let me leave the Capitol until yesterday," Peeta says. "By the way, he said to tell you he can't keep pretending he's treating you forever. You have to pick up the phone."

He looks well. Thin and covered with burn scars like me, but his eyes have lost that clouded, tortured look. He's frowning slightly, though, as he takes me in. I make a half-hearted effort to push my hair out of my eyes and realize it's matted into clumps. I feel defensive. "What are you doing?"

"I went to the woods this morning and dug these up. For her," he says. "I thought we could plant them along the side of the house."

I look at the bushes, the clods of dirt hanging from their roots, and catch my breath as the word rose registers. I'm about to yell vicious things at Peeta when the full name comes to me. Not plain rose but evening primrose. The flower my sister was named for. I give Peeta a nod of assent and hurry back into the house, locking the door behind me. But the evil thing is inside, not out. Trembling with weakness and anxiety, I run up the stairs. My foot catches on the last step and I crash onto the floor. I force myself to rise and enter my room. The smell's very faint but still laces the air. It's there. The white rose among the dried flowers in the vase. Shriveled and fragile, but holding on to that unnatural perfection cultivated in Snow's greenhouse. I grab the vase, stumble down to the kitchen, and throw its contents into the embers. As the flowers flare up, a burst of blue flame envelops the rose and devours it. Fire beats roses again. I smash the vase on the floor for good measure.

Back upstairs, I throw open the bedroom windows to clear out the rest of Snow's stench. But it still lingers, on my clothes and in my pores. I strip, and flakes of skin the size of playing cards cling to the garments. Avoiding the mirror, I step into the shower and scrub the roses from my hair, my body, my mouth. Bright pink and tingling, I find something clean to wear. It takes half an hour to comb out my hair. Greasy Sae unlocks the front door. While she makes breakfast, I feed the clothes I had shed to the fire. At her suggestion, I pare off my nails with a knife.

Over the eggs, I ask her, "Where did Gale go?"

"District Two. Got some fancy job there. I see him now and again on the television," she says.

I dig around in myself trying to find some emotion. I only find relief.

In the morning Peeta comes bearing a warm loaf of bread with Greasy Sae. Neither of us knows what to say, so we sit in silence on opposite sides of the room, occasionally locking glances ever so often for minutes at a time, but still no one says anything. Greasy Sae makes us breakfast and we eat, I give all my bacon to Buttercup who has returned and in the absence of Prim, we've learned to coexist.

This happens for several days. Peeta comes over, we eat, stare at each other for hours on end, he goes home and we repeat. Over and over and over again. The nightmares come, and while I wish Peeta was there to hold me…neither of us seem to know what to say to the other. I don't know what I expected. Did I expect him to just come back and resume our lives? Because, how can we? We're not the same. We're scarred and bruised beyond repair. Can we even be the same again? Is it possible? Sometimes I think it might be…and then other times, I don't think we could ever be the same again. There will never be a time that I don't love Peeta with all my heart, but if we can't even think of anything to say to each other, how are we supposed to come back together?

Peeta stays at his house, and I at mine. Haymitch said Willow is doing well. She's with Finnick and Annie until we figure out what's going on with us. At the exact moment that I doubt whether I'll ever see my daughter again, Peeta says the first thing he's said to me since we spoke briefly about primroses.

"Katniss," his voice cracks. Up until this exact second, I'd been staring down at the ground. At the mention of my name my head shoots up and I'm staring into Peeta's eyes, he's about three feet closer to me than usual. "I can't keep going on like this. I can't keep not talking. I can't stand being away from you. The house is empty, the bed is empty, my arms are empty. We've been silent for weeks. I haven't known what to say, scared to death I might say the wrong thing. But I'm not anymore. I miss you. Sure you're here, I'm here…but _we're_ not. There's a part of me that's missing, Katniss. That part is undeniably you." He sighs heavily and takes another two steps forward. "We've made it through all of this, Katniss. The arena, the tour, the second arena. War. We've won the war, but Katniss there's one more thing. We have one more thing to get through, and I don't want to do it alone. I don't want to be alone. I don't want to live the rest of my life sitting in your living room staring at you for hours, and then going home and sleeping by myself."

He steps forward until he's a foot away from me, and drops to his knees. The leg with the prosthetic makes quite the thud. He places his hands on either side of me on the couch and looks up at me. For a minute we look at each other, our faces mere inches from each other. This is the closest we've physically been since the night before we left for the Capitol. I search his eyes and he mine. Those blues eyes, ever so piercing, up close have never been more intoxicating.

"Please…" he says, his voice cracking as a tear rolls down his face.

I don't even have to think about it. My hands reach for his face as I place them on either side of his face and pull him forward. The second our lips touch his arms have encircled me. It's that feeling, the one from the beach, and it is mixed with so many more. I didn't know how much I needed this. To feel his arms around me, to feel his lips on mine, to know that there is never going to be anyone else for him as long as he lives. It's in this moment that I realize that what I need to survive is not Gale's fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that.

* * *

_**This chapter concludes the Mockingjay portion of this story, but not the story. There will be more after this, so stay tuned. And obviously it has to continue, they haven't been reunited with Willow yet! :-)**_


	34. Chapter 34

This time, tonight, when the nightmares frighten me awake, Peeta's arms are there to hold me. He pulls me closer to him and for several minutes we lay there in complete silence, at least until Peeta breaks the silence. His voice is cracking, whatever he's planning to say is not easy for him.

"Did I try to kill you again?"

I look up into Peeta' eyes. "Don't do this to yourself."

"I did, didn't I?"

"Peeta," I say soothingly, "it's okay."

"No, Katniss," he sighs. "It's not okay."

"Peeta, please don't start this."

He looks into my eyes, opens and closes his mouth several times but finally resolves to drop the subject. At least for now. I hope he doesn't underestimate my determination, we are not going to talk about that. Not now, not ever. He already beat himself up enough just from the first time, and I don't really want to relive it. If that's selfish I honestly couldn't care. Peeta's just about to say something else when there's a knock at the door. We both sit bolt upright. The only person that's been here lately is Greasy Sae, and she hasn't been knocking much lately anyways. I hadn't even thought about it until this moment…I can move back into the other house. Now that Peeta and I are—more or less—back together. It's not that we weren't, I mean, we're married. But together in the other sense.

I jump out of the bed, throw a robe on and head down the stairs. It takes Peeta a little longer, what with his leg and all, but soon enough he's following right behind me. I put my hand on the doorknob when Peeta stops me.

"What if it's Gale?" he asks.

I glare at him. "Seriously?" I shake my head and pull the door open. Standing just outside it is Johanna. Willow in her arms. My knees give way and I fall to the ground. I didn't think they would give her back to me. That's not an exaggeration. I didn't think I would ever see her again. Not with everything that had happened. I start to sob uncontrollably.

"Here," Johanna says putting Willow into Peeta's arms. She crouches down in front of me and slaps me across the face. "Pull yourself together brainless! I told them that you were more than okay to take care of her—"

"How would you—know—tha—tha—that?" I gasp out.

"Really?" she glowers up at Peeta. "What happened to her?"

Peeta shrugs. "It's just been awhile."

Johanna nods. "I suppose that's true." She places her hands on my shoulders and starts shaking me back and forth. "Finnick and Annie said she's been perfect."

"She's okay?" I barely get out.

"Oh, yes," Johanna nods. "I went to see one of the doctors from Thirteen before I came. One of the ones that looked after her when she was in the NICU. Just to see how she's doing, because I knew you would ask." She stands up and puts her hands down, "Get up." I do as she says and she pulls me into the other room and has me sit down on the couch, Peeta takes a seat in one of the chairs. Willow is sleeping soundly in his arms, it's all I can do not to break down and cry.

"What else—" my throat is dry. I clear my throat, "What else did they say?"

"That she's very healthy. That you're lucky." She takes a seat beside me on the couch. "She's doing great Katniss. She's up to a normal-ish weight."

"How old is she now?" I'm scared to find out how much of her life we've missed. After all I was left in that room in the Capitol for two and a half months, an unendurable amount of time. Willow had been almost three months old when we left. And I have been home, for at least two on top of that.

"Just about eight months," says Johanna.

"Eight months?" Peeta and I exclaim together.

"Hey," she says. "It's not like you guys _had_ to go to the Capitol, that was a choice you both made, knowing that she would get older while you were gone. It's what happens to everyone that grows up Katniss. I mean, look at us. Do you feel like you're 17 years old?"

"No," I say. "I guess not."

"Exactly. That's what the Games do," she sighs. "And we survived our Games—plural—and this war. Living through what we have, it's hard to imagine not feeling older, not being older. We've lived a hundred lifetimes because of our experiences in the Games. That's why no one else understands us. You can't know what the Games are like, unless you're there. We're a unique breed," she sighs heavily. "And we're all but extinct now."

"There's only a handful of us left, isn't there?" asks Peeta.

"Yeah," Johanna looks at him. "There's the three of us, Finnick, Annie, Haymitch, Beetee, and Enobaria," she shakes her head. "But we don't count her." She gets to her feet and collapses on the couch beside me. "And that's it. The Capitol killed everyone else."

"Why did they keep you alive?" I ask her. "No offence."

She shakes her head. "I don't know. It's not like I was going to give anything away, and there was no one I cared about so they couldn't use anyone against me. Now Peeta, they could use him against you. They could use Annie against Finnick…but I don't know what they wanted with me. Or why they wanted me. I guess there's just some things that I'll never understand." She takes a deep breath. "At least we don't have Snow to worry about anymore."

"Or Coin," I say.

"Or Coin," Peeta agrees.

"Right," she stands up. "Well, I was just here to bring Willow back."

"Johanna," I stand up and face her. "Why don't you stay?"

"Stay?" she looks back and forth between me and Peeta, clearly unsure of what to say. "Stay where?"

"Here," I say gesturing around the room. "This house."

Peeta nods his head firmly in agreement. "Katniss is moving back to the other house today. You should stay. You can live here, and that way you're close to Willow and can see her as much as you want."

"But why?" she asks.

"Because you're important to us," I say.

"Johanna," says Peeta in his most soothing voice. "In more than one way, we all wouldn't be here without you. And you care about Willow. We want you in her life as much as we want you in hers—"

"Ours," I interrupt.

"Yes," Peeta nods. "Ours."

"This house will be empty," I continue for him. "It's my house to give away, and I want you to have it. And we're only three doors away from you here, so you can stop by whenever you like."

"Yeah," says Peeta sarcastically. "And if it's snowing she'll call you to make sure you made it home three doors away."

"Oh, stop it," I roll my eyes at him. "I just wanted to make sure you got home."

"I lived three doors away, Katniss," he shakes his head.

"So?" I put my hands on my hips and then realize we've gone off subject, and I turn to face Johanna again. "Will you at least consider taking this house? There's no one to live in it since—Prim—died—and my mother won't be coming back. It'll just sit here and collect dust uninhabited if you leave."

Willow starts to fuss in Peeta's arms and I instinctively reach out for her, and he places her in my arms. I'm bouncing her and shushing her.

"Please, Johanna," says Peeta. "Will you stay?"

Before I know what's happening, I am singing.

_Deep in the meadow, under the willow_

_ A bed of grass, a soft green pillow_

_ Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes_

_ And when they open, the sun will rise._

_ Here it's safe, here it's warm_

_ Here the daisies guard you from every harm_

_ Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true_

_ Here is the place where I love you._

I look up and see that Johanna has tears in her eyes. "Are you okay?" I'm still bouncing Willow, but seeing Johanna like this hurts me a great deal, and I'm not entirely sure why.

"I haven't belonged somewhere…in…" she gasps, "so long."

"Well," says Peeta. "Now you do."

"Why would you guys want me to stay?" she's more or less forced herself to stop crying, and I can tell because she's doing the exact same thing that I've done in the past to make sure I don't cry. "It's not like you're obligated to me for anything," Peeta starts to protest but she puts her hand up. "Peeta, don't you dare say, 'you've saved our lives more than once'—"

"But you have," Peeta and I say together.

"Besides Prim," I continue. "I can't think of any other person I'd want her to refer to as an Aunt. You've more than earned that title."

"I don't get titles," she says caustically.

"Yes you do…" I say.

"'Victor' is not the title I'd use."

"No," says Peeta. "That's why we offer you this one."

"Please," I croak. "Please stay."

The tears begin to well up in her eyes and she walks out of the room and charges out of the door. Peeta starts to follow her but I stop him. "She'll come back." I say confidently.

"How do you know?" he asks.

"Love," I say simply. "She loves Willow. Trust me. She'll be back."

"Should we go home?" he asks looking in the direction of our house.

"Yes," I say making my way towards the door, Willow still in my arms. "She'll know where to find us when she gets back."

"How so?" he asks.

"I said we were three doors down."

"Ah," he nods and opens the front door. There are people walking around the village now, and I can see who's taken some of the houses. Hazelle is there with her kids, all of them but Gale. I guess she couldn't live away from Twelve anymore than I can. She waves at me and I wave back. It'll be good to have her here. There are several other people, too, that I can see milling around the area. One of which is Darius. He spots us walking and comes over in our direction, I hand Willow to Peeta and embrace Darius.

"I'm sorry," I tell him. But he pulls away from me and shakes his head, points at me, grabs my hand and shakes it once firmly.

"Thank you?" Peeta asks him, and Darius nods.

"For what?" I ask. He gestures all around us. "For Victors Village?" He shakes his head. "For coming back?" He nods emphatically. "Of course I came back," I hold both of his hands in mine. "This is my home. I can't imagine being anywhere else." I look around the area and notice that none of the former Peacekeepers are to be seen. "Did anyone else come back?" I ask, and he shakes his head. Then with one swift kiss on my hand he lets go of me, shakes Peeta's hands and walks away.

As soon as Darius is out of earshot I turn to face Peeta, "I thought he died!"

"I guess not," says Peeta shaking his head.

"But why would they have let him live?" I stare in the direction of where Darius is walking.

"Because they weren't done with me?" he shrugs.

"I don't know," I say. "It doesn't make sense."

"Maybe, it's not supposed to," he says. "Maybe, that's the point. Maybe we were wrong and Snow didn't have this crazy messed up plan for everyone. Perhaps he just wanted to use Darius to get to me, since he was one of the nicer Peacekeepers here." We shrug as we notice a red headed girl join him.

"Tracker jacker venom?" I ask Peeta. "Or we're seeing the dead."

Peeta laughs and hands Willow back to me, but before we can take any more steps in the direction of our home, more and more people see us and immediately drop whatever they're doing to come over in our direction. Neither of us is sure what exactly we're supposed to do, so we stand still as statues.


	35. Chapter 35

I recognize very few people. Thom who worked in the mines with Gale, Ripper who Peeta paid off to stop supplying Haymitch and me with alcohol. And Hazelle along with her children as walking towards us. It looks as if every person in the village is walking towards us besides Darius and the girl who had been our Avox before the Games…her name is escaping me at the moment. But not knowing whether to run into our house and bolt the door shut, or to stand and wait for them to come we walk into each other.

"Katniss," says Hazelle as she and the rest of the populace close in on us. "We're so glad you're back."

"I've been back for awhile," I tell her as many people come to a stop. I recognize many of them, but the number of individuals is smaller than I ever thought it would be. While I've never loved Victors Village, I'm glad it's provided so many with somewhere to live. We'll rebuild District 12, Peeta promised me that we would. And Peeta's never made me a promise that he hasn't kept.

"Well, yes," she says. "But we hadn't seen you. We weren't sure if you were okay."

"I'm okay," I say, unconvincingly.

"Katniss," she hesitates. "Is Gale coming back?"

I step back a little into Peeta's arm. "I don't know."

"Oh," she say softly. I wish I could tell her more, explain that Gale and I didn't exactly part on good terms, that I would probably never know anything about him again. I don't blame him. I couldn't have been more undecided about him and Peeta than I was. I dragged them both through the mud on that one. Avoiding as much verbal attachment as possible. I hadn't been very fair, to either of them.

"But I'll let you know if I hear anything," I tell her. But Hazelle knows me too well. She knows Gale won't tell me. She knows that I don't know how Gale's doing, and I suppose she might blame me for him not returning to Twelve, and I don't blame her.

"Okay…" she turns to leave.

"The only thing I know," I say as she faces me. "Is that he's in District Two. I'm sorry that I don't know any more than that."

"Thank you, Katniss," she says before leaving.

"Peeta," Thom nods at him.

"Thom," he nods back.

The air is stifling. I'm sure Thom must know about everything. The way that Gale felt about me, _everyone_ knew the way Peeta felt about me…and Thom had to watch me drag Gale through unfair moments of intimacy. And if I were him, I'd be pretty made at me too. Perhaps, he blames me too, for Gale not coming back. If Gale had a best friend, besides me, it was probably Thom.

"Katniss," Thom says emotionless.

"Hello, Thom," I say hesitantly.

"So Gale isn't coming back?" I don't know why him asking this surprises me.

"I don't think so," I say slowly.

"He's in District Two, you say?" he asks and I nod. "Suppose you don't know where in Two he is, do you?" I shake my head. "Right," he spins on his heel and marches away. Looks as if he's staying in the same house as Hazelle, at least her and her kids will be well taken care of.

The rest of the people, mostly from the Seam, come up to Peeta and I to thank us personally for what we've done for the rebellion. For all that we had to go through. For coming back. For giving them hope when they had none. For killing Coin, that one actually surprised me. If there was something to thank us for, then we were thanked. As the crowd started to dwindle down Peeta suggested to the all that it was getting dark and we should be heading in, baby and all. They understood, but several people shot evil looks at Peeta, most of them were moments after thanking us for what we did in this war.

Peeta and I finally make it to the stairs of our house and are climbing them when we hear a shriek from behind us, I almost fall down them at the sound, and probably would have if Peeta hadn't caught me. We turn to see Delly Cartwright charging in our direction. _Of course, she'd make it back here!_ I'm surprised by the rush of jealousy I feel at the presence of her. Maybe that's because she tried to make a move on Peeta. I'm not a very forgiving person, and I still haven't forgiven her for that. I might never forgive her for that, so I have to fight every urge to walk in my house and slam the door in miserable perky face.

"Peeta!" she screams as she gets to the walkway in front of our house.

"Hello, Delly," he says.

"I heard you'd made it back!" she smiles as she stops at the bottom of the stairs.

It's like I'm not even here at all. Delly seems to feel the same way about me that I do about her, but at least _I_ have Peeta and she does not. That's one sweet blissful thing I can rub in her face for the rest of her miserable life. _Whoa, Katniss! Take it down a notch!_ I shake my head and stare at her.

"Yeah," he says. "Few weeks ago."

"It's so good to see you!" she rushes up the stairs and throws her arms around him. It's all I can do not to rip her hair out, and I just might if I didn't have Willow in my arms. For the first time since Johanna brought her to us this morning, I haven't wanted her in my arms. It's at this _exact_ moment I realize Peeta and I are still in our nightclothes. That means, I am in my robe, with absolutely nothing underneath. And Peeta is in underclothes, and nothing else.

"It's nice to see you too," says Peeta as she's knocked all the air out of his body.

"We weren't sure you were going to make it!" she sighs heavily. "We were all worried that you had died in the Capitol, but I told them no. I told them that if you had I would definitely know about it. I would be able to feel it in my soul."

The time for silence is over, "_Excuse_ me?" I stop her. "And how is it that you would know this?"

"Because it's Peeta," she excuses.

"Yes," I say cuttingly. "I know its Peeta."

"So why did you ask?" she retorts letting go of Peeta and facing me.

"Because I can!"

She scoffs at my response. "Okay. Whatever, Katniss." The amount of apathy in her voice is palpable. She likes me, just about as much as I like her. And I don't like her at all. It wasn't until Peeta was calling me a mutt, and reminiscing happily with her about their lives back in Twelve, back when I just knew him as the boy with the bread. There was a whole part of his life that I'll never be a part of, and what unnerves me so much about that, is the fact that Delly was a part of it. She must have been pining for him the way he'd been pining for me. It's amazing how oblivious you can be to someone's attention.

Peeta had been right during out first interviews with Caesar Flickerman, I didn't know he existed—well I knew he existed, _bread_—but I had never talked to him. We lived in different worlds. He was a baker's son, I was a miners daughter. Those pairings didn't exist very often. Which is what made his declaration so jarring. I couldn't imagine why someone as well off—well, it was well off compared to my family—as Peeta would even be interested in me at all.

Birds. The birds stopped singing. That's what he'd told me. _"I knew I was a goner—just like your mother."_ How had I been so oblivious of this. Even Gale said that he'd noticed Peeta paying me a certain type of attention. I dealt with Peeta's father when it came to trading, not Peeta himself, so what had made me so interesting? My desperation in coming to his trash cans for food?

"So, Peeta," Delly continues, pulling me back to reality, and reigniting my irritation. "Are you going to rebuild the bakery? You always made the best pastries, and your cheese buns we heavenly." Cheese buns? Did she seriously just mention the cheese buns? My favorite thing that Peeta's ever made me, amongst the dozens of other things he can make, and she chooses my favorite?

"I'd been seriously thinking about it," answers Peeta.

"Well, you absolutely should!" She smiles brightly at him. "You have no idea how bad the baked goods have been here without you."

"I've been back for a few weeks though, Delly," he says.

"So, you should have let me know you were back!" She's beaming at him. It's all I can do not to make her wipe that stupid grin off her face. I have to keep reminding myself that there is a baby in my arms. She's sleeping so peacefully, and I've been without her for so long, I keep forgetting that I have her with me again.

"Well," starts Peeta, but she interrupts.

"Because, I was really concerned about you," she strokes his cheek.

"What—" I shove myself between the two of them, holding Willow securely in my arms. "Do you _think_ you are doing, Delly?" The last word is cutting, and unforgiving.

"Just letting Peeta know how much he's been missed," she smiles around me at him.

"Excuse me?" I glare at her. Daring her to continue.

"It's just been so obvious the lack of him, and it's good to have him back," she grins at me. When did she turn into this evil little annoying thing in front of me? I'd been grateful in Thirteen that she'd tried to help Peeta, but after she'd tried to make a pass at him…that's when everything changed.

"Delly—" I try but she stops me.

"Oh, Katniss," she sighs, but the smile remains. "We've just missed him an awful lot here in Twelve." She smiles at Peeta and then looks back at me with the same intensity that I've been looking at her since I stepped between her and Peeta. "I didn't even know you were back."

"Yeah? Well, I've been back longer than Peeta has!"

"Yeah," she said offhandedly. "Didn't know. Don't really care."

"That's it!" I try to hand Willow off to Peeta, and instead he starts to push me up the rest of the stairs. "Peeta, let go of me! Take your daughter!" He's shaking his head and continues to usher me up the remaining steps.

"Thanks, Delly," he says turning to her, "for stopping by. Do feel free to stop in another time."

"What the-!" I try to turn again, but the front door is opening.

"Alright Peeta!" I can hear her skip down the stairs and her feet as the walk away.

Next thing I know I'm in the door and Peeta is closing them. "Let me go talk to her!"

"Uh, no."

"Uh, yes."

"Uh, no."

"Peeta Mellark, get out of my way!"

"Not a chance."

I stare at him for longer than I'm even aware. After a while Willow starts to cry.

"She's probably hungry," he says. "There's several bottles in the fridge already."

"Bottles?" my expression softens immediately. "Why do you have bottles in the fridge?"

"Because there had never been a doubt in my mind," he says pulling me by the elbow toward the kitchen. "Whether we'd get her back or not. To me, it was all just a matter of when." We're in the kitchen and he pulls the fridge open to reveal more bottles than I've ever seen in one place, removes it, heats it up and takes Willow from me and starts feeding her.

"How did you know?" I ask him sinking into the chair.

"I just knew," he shrugs and sits on the couch.

"But, how?" I ask. "I didn't even know."

"Katniss," he says looking in in the eyes. "She's our daughter. Where else do you think she'd belong?"

"Finnick and Annie, or Johanna," I say quietly.

"Finnick and Annie have their own baby to worry about," he says.

"Wait, they had it?" I ask astonished.

"Yeah," he says cautiously. "He was born premature too…"

"Peeta…"

"He's alive," he says slowly. "But he's not doing as well as Willow was."

"It's because of the Games, isn't it?"

He nods, "yes, that's what the doctors are telling them."

"Is this common among the victors?"

"Not necessarily," he says shrugging.

"Meaning?"

"Sometimes, yes," he sighs. "But it's not as common…or at least it wasn't."

"'Wasn't'?"

"Yeah," he's shaking his head.

"Wait…" it hits me. "How do you know all of this?"

"Finnick called yesterday, wanted to make sure you were still alive, and to give me an update." Finnick wanted to make sure I was still alive? After all we've been through together, I can't even fathom why I ever wanted to kill Finnick Odair.

"On Willow?"

"Well, Willow was actually with Johanna most of the time." He puts the empty bottle on the side table and starts patting Willows back. "She heard about Finnick and Annie's situation, and went there so fast to watch Willow that Finnick wasn't sure how she could have gotten there as quickly as she did."

"Have they given him a name?" I ask him.

"I think," he starts, "I'll let Finnick be the one to tell you."

"Okay," I say. "I suppose that makes sense."

"Yes it does," he stands up. "Now come with me Mrs. Mellark and I'll show you the nursery."

"Nursery?" I ask shooting up from the chair so fast I almost fall over.

"Well, I had to do something when you kept to yourself," he says walking from the room. "Didn't I?"

I hurry after him. "There really was no doubt in your mind that we'd get Willow back, was there?"

He looks back at me. "None. I knew we'd get her back, as assuredly as I knew I would get you back."

"But how could you be so sure?" The level of my sureness is pathetic in regards to his. Peeta really doesn't give up on anyone. He'd had plenty of reasons to give up on me, numerous times. Why was—am—I so special?

"Because, I love you, Katniss," he says it so confidently. "You said stay with me, and what did I tell you?"

"You said, 'always.'"

"Exactly," he says as we ascend the stairs. "And when have I ever not kept that promise?"

"I don't know."

"Wrong," he says. "The correct answer is never."

We walk up the remainder of the stairs and he walks straight to the guest room. The one I'd found myself pounding on and screaming his name more than once. This seems like such a long time ago. We were two very different people at that time. Its feels almost impossible that this little bit of reality, is how we've turned out. We made it through the Games, we had a baby, dealt with his being hijacked, and fought and finished a war. No, we are not the same people who sat on opposite sides of this door, me screaming and him crying. While a time may come where he's on one side of a door crying and I'm on the other screaming his name, there will never be a repeat of that time. Everything is the same, and yet nothing is.

As Peeta swings the door open my eyes are immediately drawn to the gorgeous mural on the opposite wall. "A willow tree," I say and he nods. Looking around the rest of the room I see more beautiful paintings. There's a painting of the meadow, of Peeta, Haymitch, and myself. Of Rue, and Prim.

"Oh Peeta," I choke out.

He walks forward and lays Willow in her crib. I walk up to stand beside him and pull the blanket over her. Cinna made it. I'd know the intricate detailing, and color choices anywhere. He must have known that Peeta was planning this. Why else would he make it?

Peeta turns to me and pulls me into his arms. "You really have nothing to worry about, with Delly, Katniss. There may be a history there, but there's only one Katniss Everdeen. No one will be able to take your place."

I wrap my arms around him and hold on fiercely.

"Remember what I said in the Quell?" His arms tighten around me. I nod, but he continues anyways. "I said that if you died, and I lived, I'd never be happy again. That there's no one else I care about in Twelve. Nobody needs me."

"You're more wrong than you know," I look up into his eyes. "That wasn't for the cameras Peeta. That wasn't just to make you feel good before I died—which I had been planning on since I knew about the Quell—in that moment. I was speaking only for myself. When I said I need you…" I sigh. "Peeta, I've never needed anyone before. Even my mother and Prim. I can hunt, I can cook—it's not the greatest—but the point is, I'm capable enough to live on my own, but on the beach. When you said no one needs you, when I knew that you were determined to get me out of that arena, whatever the cost, I knew I'd been wrong. I'd been so wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"For the first time in my life," I sigh. "I needed someone. I needed you. I still need you." I reach my hands up and place them on either side of his face. Forcing him to make eye contact. "I'll _always_ need you, Peeta." I pull his face to mine until our lips meet. Hoping to silence any attempt he might make to debate what I've said, instead his arms tighten around me. I've never needed anyone more than I need Peeta Mellark. No one.

* * *

_**Just wanted to add, that this story will keep going for as long as I can get it. The only time it will ever be over is when you see the two words, the end, and from where I stand now, that's not going to happen anytime soon. And I just wanted to thank you all for all of your wonderful reviews! These past few chapters have come together so effortlessly, and it's truly a pleasure to put them up here for you. I love this story, and I love you.**_


	36. Chapter 36

**_This chapter is for peetagrl3 your reviews this week have been amazing and I just wanted to say thank you in this special way! And thank you to everyone else who reviews, it means more to me, than you will ever know! And Ashley, thank you for your friendship and unwavering support. Love you chica!_**

* * *

"So…" says Peeta as he pulls some cheese buns from the oven. "You sure she was going to come back?"

"Yes," I say. I have Willow in my arms and am bouncing her around. She's starting to get more hair on her little head, it's a light brown, not quite golden like her fathers, but nowhere near as dark as mine. She has Peeta's undeniably blue, blue eyes. I could get lost in hers just as easily as I could get lost in his.

"Hazelle brought some toys over," says Peeta.

I hadn't seen them till now, but I walk over to the blanket already on the floor and lay Willow down on it, giving her several other toys. She's cooing and seems to be the very definition of a good, nay happy, baby. The doctors were right; Peeta and I did get lucky. Knowing that Finnick and Annie's little boy was doing worse than Willow ever was, breaks my heart. They deserved so much better, they'd been through just as much, as Peeta and I had. I've only talked to Finnick once, and that was just to get an update on Magnus. Magnus Odair. They gave him that name in memory of Mags, the tribute from their District who was Finnick's mentor for his Games. That decision hadn't surprised me at all.

"Katniss," says Peeta.

"Yeah?" I ask walking out to the kitchen. "What's going on?"

"You sure Johanna is going to come back?" he asks placing another pan into the oven.

"Yes," I nod, leaning against the countertop.

"She's been gone for two months though," he shrugs. "Maybe we should just rent it out."

I shake my head firmly, "No. She'll be back Peeta."

"Okay, Katniss…"

I stay watching him working in the kitchen for, I don't know how much time has passed, when there is a knock on the window. Peeta and I glance at each other, but being that his hands are already preoccupied I walk over to it instead. Lifting the window up I glance outside, it's Haymitch.

"Dammit, Katniss," he's drunk. "What did you do to the door?"

I glance at Peeta who has the same reaction as I do. Haymitch hasn't been this drunk in awhile, but someone needs to guide him back to his house and I'm about to do it when there's a knock on the front door. "Come around front, Haymitch." I tell him and he says something indiscernible and stumbles around, away from the window.

"I'll go get the door," I tell Peeta and walk out of the kitchen. Willow is playing with blocks on the floor. She's managed to sit up by herself, crawling, standing with the help of something else, which was a relief, but it also means that she's getting closer to walking and neither of us are ready for that yet.

I open the door and am standing face to face with Johanna. "And who said she wouldn't come back?" I holler over my shoulder towards where Peeta is.

"It's Johanna?" he asks, surprised.

"Yes," I say. "Now put that tray in the oven and come out here."

"Okay," he says.

I turn back to Johanna. "How are you?"

"I'm good," she says.

"We've missed you," I've never said anything more sincere to Johanna, ever.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she waves the air around her face and walks in the house and right straight to the living room. "She's sitting up?" She half gasps, half shouts. I nod. "How long has she been doing that?"

"Since not long after you took off," says Peeta as he enters the room.

"Oh," she says with a frown.

"Are you here to stay?" I ask impatiently.

"I don't know…" she says slowly before theres a pounding on the door.

"Peeta—" I start.

"I'm on it," he says walking away. Hearing the door open, "Come on, Haymitch, let's get you back home." There's a scuffling at the door. "Be back in a bit!"

"Okay," I say in his direction.

There's sounds of people leaving the house, Peeta closing the door, Haymitch falling down the stairs. He's not good with stairs at this stage of drunkenness. It must be an anniversary of something. Peeta and I never ask, frankly we're to worried and scared for him to ask. Plus, I do believe that if it was important or he really needed to talk about it, that he would do just that.

Turning back to face Johanna, "So are you here to stay?"

"I don't know, Katniss," she says looking at Willow.

"You can go pick her up, you know," I move out of the way.

Johanna walks forward and picks Willow up who giggles instantly. "I missed you too," she tells her. "I'm sorry I just left you. We're buddies aren't we?" Willow has Johanna's finger in a vise like grip with her little hand. "Your mommy offered me her house, did you know that?" She's talking to Willow, not me. But I have a feeling we're about to get emotional, and maybe that's why she's talking to a baby instead of me. "Would you like me to stay here?"

I watch this exchange continue for a few more minutes. Johanna fills Willow in on what she's been doing. She went to District 2 and 4 to try and get Gale and my mother to come back. She says she used Willow as a reason to urge my mother to come home, but it didn't work. No, my mother was never coming back. No matter how many kids Peeta and I have, there will never be a good enough reason for my mother to come back. I knew that before Johanna said anything, but it still hurts to hear.

"Katniss," Johanna says looking at me.

"Yeah?"

"Why would you want me to stay?" she sighs and switches Willow from her left hip to her right.

"Because we care about you."

"But, why?" she asks. There's a look in her eyes I can't identify.

"You looked after Peeta and I in the arena—"

"And stripped by the elevator after the chariot ride, just to fluster you."

"Not the point, and that's nonessential," I say. "That was before the Quell. You saved me in the Quell, at your own expense."

"Did Peeta tell you what happened that night?" she asks.

"After we split up?" I ask. "Or after you cut my tracker out and left me?"

"Well, both," she says bouncing Willow. "Technically."

"No," I fold my arms over my chest. It feels like the most comfortable movement at the moment. "Why? What happened?"

"Well," she starts slowly. "When I lost you, I went immediately to locate Peeta. I knew that if we got split up, they must have too. I saw him kill Brutus. I'll be honest, Katniss, I've never seen Peeta kill anyone like that." She shrugs. "But that was after you were calling his name, so I guess it sort of makes sense. When you stopped answering him back, oh Katniss, if only you could have seen his face."

"Johanna?" The look on her face makes the idea of Peeta's at that moment, so much more frightening.

"He looked wild," she says slowly. "It's like he'd lost all reason, like everything he had been fighting for was gone forever. It was like the look he gave you before we left with the wire, but about a thousand times worse. I felt horrible, Katniss. Haymitch told me to protect you guys, and then the lightning started. Peeta screamed when he heard you scream. Katniss it was awful, he immediately charged at me, demanding to know what happened."

"But you didn't know!" I exclaim.

"No," her head lowers, "I didn't. And I felt like I had failed. Not Haymitch, or the rebellion…" she sighs. "I felt like I had failed you and Peeta. I saw how you two were in that arena—and obviously, I've seen you after—but I just couldn't bare it. I tried to get through, and so did Peeta, but it didn't work. And then the arena started to fall apart. Something was shot in our general direction and the next thing I know, Peeta's lying on the ground and so am I, but I couldn't do anything. I couldn't move, I couldn't speak. Whatever it was Katniss it made Peeta and I completely useless. That's when the hovercraft picked us up."

I don't know what to say. Sure Peeta has told me a lot about what happened, but I've tried to refrain from asking him too many questions. Sure I went through an awful lot, but he went through more, it would be incredibly selfish of me to want to know everything about what happened. I couldn't have done anything differently to help them, and neither could Johanna.

"It's not your fault—" I try to say.

"But I think it is Katniss," she puts a hand in the air palm facing me when I try to interject, "I think it's all of ours to an extent. When you were looking at Peeta and Beetee, Finnick and I were looking at each other. We made a decision right there that we needed to take care of you guys, not for Haymitch—screw Haymitch—but for you and Peeta. Something happened in that arena…and we were going to do our bests to make sure that we all made it out of the arena."

"But we didn't."

"No," she shakes her head. "We didn't. Not the way we wanted to, anyways."

"Why didn't you guys tell us what was going on?" I ask, seeing if maybe she would give me an answer where Haymitch would not.

"I don't really know," she sighs and kisses Willow on the head. "I really think we should have."

"Why do you think they kept us in the dark?"

"I really don't know, Katniss. Honest I don't. If I did I would tell you, but I just don't know. You and Peeta seem to think that we had this superior wealth of knowledge that we just elected to not tell you. We just didn't really know." She shrugs as she puts Willow into my arms. "If I had known what was going to happen…I would have told you, but—"

"No one saw it coming, Johanna," I sigh, bouncing a giggling Willow up and down. "Finnick and I already talked about that fact. It's all forgiven. We don't hold it against either of you…that wouldn't be fair. It's not like you planned for the Capitol to take you and Peeta, and it's not like you knew I was going to hit the arena with a wired arrow either. There's a lot of things that didn't go as planned…" she tries to interrupt, but I keep talking. "Considering I wasn't planning on getting out of that arena at all."

For the first time, possibly ever, her jaw drops. "What?"

"Well," I say, guiltily, "I had every intention of dying in that arena so Peeta could go home, and—"

"Live the rest of his life alone?" There's a certain amount of agitation in this response. "He _told_ you he'd never be happy again. That there would be no life for him here…without you."

"I know…"

"Were you really willing to be that selfish?"

"Yes," I squeak. Hoping. Pleading. Begging. She doesn't go one from this question.

"Did you know you were pregnant?"

Too late.

"Yes," I say, almost inaudibly, but she hears me. Her eyes widen and I know it's coming.

"Katniss!" She shouts. "What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you even think about doing that to Peeta? All he ever did was look out for you, and love you. No one doubted how much he cared, _that_ was obvious since the first Games, but to consider taking away _two_ of the people in his life that he'd actually care about—_what is wrong with you_?"

"I know…"

"I just can't _believe_ this." She's started pacing around the room, mumbling to herself, and since I don't dare interrupt her I watch her pace back and forth; in a circle, through rooms, until she stops right in front of me. Willows head is resting on my shoulder, one hand in my hair the other holding my back. "Did _he_ know you were pregnant?"

Her stare is so intense, and her body so rigid that I daren't say anything. I know she wouldn't hit me—at least not with Willow in my arms. But at this moment, I'm honestly more afraid of her words. What she might say. Her doctor told her to not filter what she says, but she never really had a filter before either. For the first time, I'm genuinely afraid of Johanna Mason, the victor from District 7.

"Did Peeta _know_?" she asks again, less kindly.

I swallow hard and open my mouth.

"Yes," says Peeta walking in behind her. Johanna spins around to meet his gaze. "Yeah. She told me."

Johanna whips back around to look at me, Peeta casts me a wary glance. "Katniss, you don't deserve them. Peeta has sacrificed _so_ much for you! And you were just going to throw it away in there, for what?" Her voice is rising.

"So I—"

"What?" Her hands are on her hips. "So you _what_?"

"So I wouldn't have to live…" I sigh heavily, and hand Willow off to Peeta who is at my side. "The rest of my life without him…without them…" Johanna's eyes are piercing. "I'm not saying it was the right thing to do, and I'm not going to try to justify my actions, because I hate myself for thinking about doing that to him. I hadn't even realized that until Gale talked to me about it."

"About what?" her expression has softened…ever so slightly, but I'll take it.

"What I was ipso facto was doing to Peeta." I sigh and my shoulders droop. "I took him for granted. All the time. For everything. I was never anything but selfish when it came to him. I _was_ willing to die in that arena—selfishly—so I wouldn't have to try to face my life without him…I hadn't thought for one moment what that would do to him. That fact in and of itself is why that decision was selfish. And yes, it was horrible, that I was willing to do that…" I look over at Peeta and then back to Johanna. "But you know, if—and when—it came right down to it, I still would have made it out of the arena. You and I both know, there's nothing Peeta wouldn't do to get me out of there."

Johanna nods. "It was a bitchy move brainless."

"Yes," I nod. "Definitely the word I would use."

"Have you forgiven her?" she looks at Peeta.

"For trying to save me?" he smiles.

"Whatever you wanna call it," she rolls her eyes.

"Of course, I've forgiven her. I can't think of any reason why not to."

For a few moments no one says anything. Peeta hasn't moved, nor has Johanna, and I'm too worried that she'll knock me unconscious if I move, to actually move. No one says anything. Finally Peeta speaks up.

"I'm going to go put Willow to bed," he scoots past us, "okay?"

We both nod in acknowledgment, but for however long it takes for Peeta to put Willow down and come back downstairs, come around behind me, and wrap his arms around me; Johanna and I have been staring at each other this whole time.

"Why did you come back Johanna?" Peeta asks her.

"What?" she finally looks away from my eyes.

"Why did you come back?" he asks again.

"Because…I…" she stammers. Peeta and I both don't have the heart to push her. "What would you…how would I…when do I…where should I…" she pauses again, not saying anything, and Peeta and I not wanting to push anything. "Do you…is there…" she sighs heavily. "Is there still a place for me here in 12?"

She looks up to make eye contact with me, but I've let go of Peeta—more like he let go of me—and I step forward, pull Johanna into my arms. "There will _always_ be a place here for you, for as long as you want it."


End file.
